


Drinking You Down

by rainbow_kings



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Angst, Childhood Friends, Don't worry, Famous Harry, Friends to Lovers, He has a book deal, Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity, Louis has a boyfriend, Louis is a Novelist, M/M, Not Between Louis-Harry, Old Friendships, Painful Reunion, Pining, Romance, Singer Harry, Tour, Travel, don't hate me, i'm not that evil, mentions of dub con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-20 22:11:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 56,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11344104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbow_kings/pseuds/rainbow_kings
Summary: AU where Louis and Harry grew up in the small village of Holmes Chapel and have been childhood friends since they were toddlers. They experienced every part of waking life together and taught each other about life, love and dreams. Until Harry left at the age of nineteen-years old to chase his singing career.Four years later, they're strangers. Harry's an accomplished, successful multimillionaire pop star and Louis lives with his mother, his dog and works in McDonald's. His finished, unpublished novel sits in the bottom of his underwear drawer, never to be touched.When Harry takes a hiatus from touring due to exhaustion, they meet once again and they rekindle their friendship. Harry takes Louis around the world and Louis confesses he's always been in love with Harry.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well. Here is a long ass angsty fic that I got a surge of inspiration for and wrote within less than three weeks? I have no life, maybe? This is what summer does to me.
> 
> **Disclaimer** : This fic is a work of fiction. It is written by me. The plot, characters and the story belongs to me. Any resemblance to real life is purely coincidental (besides the obvious like the family members etc). Though members of one direction's names have been used, this is no way represents their real life personas. Also, I condemn the shitty aspects of this fic. I, in no way, support any of it. I just like to torture my characters, y'all.
> 
> **Trigger warnings** : Mentions of dub-con between Louis and original character, both emotional and physical abuse, drugs and alcohol and sexual content.
> 
> Throughout the fic, I linked to specific songs I listened to whilst writing. You don't have to listen but it enhances the experience and I suggest it to get the feel of the mood.
> 
> Title taken from the song: Dua Lipa - Begging. She's my new obsession.

 

[ Cage the Elephant - Ain’t No Rest For The Wicked](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U631FGnXDXY)

The night shift was the worst at McDonald’s. He, often, was on the drive through duty which meant loved up couples or group of friends that named themselves ‘the squad’ would roll through. Louis had to paint on the brave face, giving the utmost customer service he could provide with a patient smile, an accommodating tone.

As soon as he was away from the window, away from the customer though -- it was another story.

“Fucking annoying customers,” he muttered as he roughly grabbed the cup container, filling it up with coke. “How long till this insufferable shift ends?” 

Niall, who was sweeping up the floor because a customer had dropped their fries everywhere, looked up from what he was doing.

“I believe… three more hours.”

Louis groaned under his breath, throwing his head back and stretching out the kinks in the back of his neck. His back was aching, having being stood up for almost ten hours now. But in two hours, at seven am, he could walk out and mostly avoid the morning breakfast rush hour.

Praise the Lord.

Fatigue was settling heavy on his bones as he yawned, stifling it behind the back of his fist. He took the two diet cokes back to the window, opening it up to deliver it to the customer, grabbing the bag of cheeseburgers next.

“You tired, mate?”

Louis raised his brow as he turned back around to the man, his girlfriend sitting next to him as they sniggered like they had just said the biggest joke of the year.

“Sorry?”

“I said, _are you tired_? Because you sure look it.”

It was a harmless question but the man looked smug about it, a smirk pulling at his lips whilst his girlfriend looked entirely too pleased about the entire situation. Louis couldn’t find a single amusing thing about the ordeal.

“Okay…” Louis breathed out through his nostrils, thrusting the cheeseburger bag into his hand. “Have a good meal,” he said, slamming the drive through windows shut and turning his back before he lost his shit.

Niall was standing a few feet behind him, his nose scrunched up.

“Shitty customers?” He asked, sympathy pouring into his tone.

“You fucking bet.”

The restaurant, itself, was mostly empty. There were a few group of guys huddled around a table with black coffees, chattering quietly amongst themselves. They looked like they were on a road trip and took Holmes Chapel as the perfect village for a quick pit stop before heading back on the road.

Before Niall could reply, another man entered the shop and walked to the counter.

Niall put his hands up in surrender, quickly scurrying away.

“Bastard!” He called after Niall, forcing a smile on his face that looked more like a grimace as he approached the counter. He logged into the computer, ready to scan the man’s order. “Hi, can I take your order?”

The man was sort of beautiful. Which was rare to find in McDonald’s, at 4am. He was an older man, probably mid-thirties, dressed in casual wear. He had an impressive beard, a chiseled jawline and piercing green eyes.

Louis swallowed, diverting his gaze elsewhere. Green eyes would always be his weakness.

“Yes, hello,” the man nodded, smiling at Louis flirtatiously. “Could I get a large portion of fries and a large diet coke?”

“Of course,” Louis mumbled back, tapping it into the computer. “That’ll be £2.38, please.”

The man drew out his wallet, extracting his card and tapping it against the contactless payment. Louis ripped off the receipt, handing it over.

“It’ll be ready in a moment.”

He walked to the fries that were already prepared, throwing them into a container before putting them into a bag. He walked back to the drink machine, feeling the man’s eyes on his back. He resisted the urge to shudder, filling the cup to the top and putting it into a holder.

“Here we go,” Louis smiled as he handed it over.

The man took it off him gratefully, his lips twitching.

“Forgive me if this is inappropriate.”

“Oh?” 

“I just… you’re fit, you know?” The man spoke, elongating his speech, eyes focusing in on Louis. “I was wondering if you’d like to exchange numbers.”

A flush grew over Louis’ cheeks, pushing his hair back off his forehead. He could feel Niall pausing what he was working on in the kitchen, silence ensuing from the back. Louis knew Niall was waiting to hear his response.

“I - I’m flattered, really,” he chuckled. “But I have a boyfriend, already. I’m sorry.”

The man looked guilty, at the very least. He shook his head softly, a chuckle falling from his lips.

“Of course. Do forgive me. Have a good day, gorgeous.”

With that, he took his leave and walked out of the restaurant. Louis watched him go, eyes following his figure until the man had gotten into his car and sped away from the McDonald’s.

Once he was gone, he felt a harsh slap on his shoulder.

“Ouch! What the fuck was that for, Niall?” He rubbed his shoulder blades and turning around to face his mate, glaring.

“You _rejected_ that beautiful, glorious man for _Luke_?”

Louis rolled his eyes. “Luke is my boyfriend.”

“I’m aware.”

“So, why would I take somebody else’s number?” He questioned, raising a skeptical brow at Niall who simply shrugged.

“Because he’s an abusive—”

“My god,” Louis threw his hands in the air, shaking his head. “Nope. I don’t want to hear it, nope.”

“Louis—”

“He has never laid a finger on me!”

“He doesn’t have to!”

They both stared each other down from where they stood, near the counter. Louis never argued with his best friend, ever. But this one conversation irked him, got right under his skin and Niall never backed down from the conflict. He seemed insistent on proving Luke as an abusive, manipulating boyfriend.

“Um… excuse me?” One the road trip travelling guys spoke up, standing by the counter. He cleared his throat. “Can I get a refill?”

Louis gritted his teeth, nodding. “Coming right up!”

**

He arrived back at his mother’s house—which was also his home—just shy of 7:20am. He parked up the Toyota Yaris in the driveway, locking the car as he opened the front door.

The aroma of fresh pancakes and syrup hit him as he hummed in approval, shrugging off his jacket and walking into the kitchen. Johannah was walking around the kitchen, a spatula in one hand, a cup of warm tea in the other. Her eyes lit up when he looked over her shoulder, noticing her son standing there.

His dog, Blueberry—a gorgeous golden lab—noticed Louis’ arrival and barked as he ran up to him. Louis bent over to pet his dog, cuddling Blue into his chest. Blue must’ve missed his presence in the morning because he licked over Louis’ face repeatedly, panting. Louis felt fondness blossoming in his chest.

“Hello, boy. My gorgeous boy. Did you miss me? Oh, yes, you did.” Louis cooed in his baby voice.

“Honey, you’re home!”

Louis sighed happily as he got up, facing his mother again, nodding. “Yeah.”

“Come, sit,” she gestured to the table full of breakfast food: croissants, pancakes with syrup, whipped cream and cut up fruit. “I prepared breakfast.”

A laugh fell from his lips as he looked over the extensive selection of food, all laid out on the table in an order.

“What is this, mum? You’re acting like I just returned from… war, or something.”

Johannah’s eyes glistened as she put the cup of tea in her hand down on the table, skipping around to reach Louis. She pulled him taunt against her side, pressing a kiss on his cheeks.

“I just missed you, is all.”

“Sorry. I know I haven’t been home in a while, I’ve been crashing at Luke’s.”

“You don’t have to apologise. You’re twenty-five. That’s your boyfriend. You can do whatever the hell you want,” she tutted. “Just. I’m allowed to miss you, okay?”

“Of course. I’ve missed you too.”

Louis sat down on the table, placing a clean plate in front of him. After spending twelve hours serving greasy, disgusting food—it was nice to come home to freshly, homemade prepared breakfast. He helped himself to a bit of everything, stomach still rumbling from the insufficient amount of food in the past half day.

Johannah joined him a few minutes later, only a cup of tea in her hands.

“Are you not going to eat?” Louis raised a brow, gesturing to the masses of food still on the table.

“I’ll get one of your sisters to eat when they wake up for school.”

“Can I do the school runs?” He asked as he stuffed a serving of pancake into his mouth, letting out a soft moan at the taste.

Johannah looked pleased but she shook her head firmly, taking a sip of her tea.

“Absolutely not, love. You’ve just worked throughout the night. You need sleep.”

“But—”

“But, nothing. You go to sleep immediately after breakfast and you don’t wake up until well into the evening.”

Louis rolled his eyes despite the fondness growing in his chest, blessed with a mother who worried over him constantly. He never wanted to do anything that put that in jeopardy. 

“Oh, yeah. Something else.”

He raised a brow. “What?”

Johannah got up from the table, opening the drawer where they kept letters that nobody wanted to open. Mostly bills they had to catch up on. She looked hesitant, biting her lip as she approached the table and put the envelope on the table.

It had Harry’s cursive writing on the front.

Louis didn’t pick it up. He didn’t spare it another glance.

Instead, he resumed eating like his heart wasn’t beating right out of his chest. Like his mind wasn’t suddenly spinning hundred miles per hour, trying to figure out what country it was from this time.

“You not going to open it?”

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’.

Johannah raised a brow but didn’t argue, merely nodding as she sat back down and continued to drinking her tea. She never pushed him on the subject of Harry. Johannah and the entire family recognised it was a sour topic.

Barely twenty minutes later, Louis’ sisters came running down the stairs one by one. Lottie was first, grabbing a few fruits and running out of the door, claiming she was late to meet her friend. Fizzy came next, Daisy and Phoebe in tow as they sat around the table. Louis chattered back and forth with them.

When Johannah grabbed the car keys to drop them to school, she turned to look at Louis.

“Rest,” she said firmly.

Louis nodded, holding two fingers up. “Scout’s honour.”

As soon as his mother was out of the door, Louis scrambled forward for the envelope. The curiosity got the best of him and he was unable to resist any longer. He ripped it open, pulling out the postcard.

_Brazil. Rio de Janeiro._

Louis frowned, turning it around to read Harry’s writing. It didn’t say much but it was enough for him to bite his lip, let himself overthink.

_Hello from the beautiful city in Brazil, Johannah and Louis and sisters. You’d all love it here. A few shows here and around central and south America. Harry xx_

He scoffed, stuffing it back in the envelope. He got up from the table, throwing it in the bin.

Louis was moving on. He was moving on.

**

[ Coldplay - Sparks ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ar48yzjn1PE)

_Louis - 17 years old, Harry - 15 years old_

Louis was slightly buzzed. He had stolen his step father’s beer bottle from the fridge but he was sure the man would be leaving by next week, wouldn’t even notice the missing bottle. Louis was used to the different abundance of men in and out of his life. He had been taking a few sips but it had been enough for his senses to be heightened, sensitive to the drink.

Harry had refused to drink, politely rejecting the offer.

Louis was buzzed and so in love that he felt dizzy with the overwhelming, all-consuming feeling. But he swallowed it down, just like he did with the disgusting beer he kept drowning himself in.

Harry was youthful and beautiful, a little pudgy with springy curls curling around his ears. They were sitting on Louis’ roof, their legs swinging in unison as they stared out to the full moon in the dark sky.

“Do you want me to grab you a fizzy drink, instead?”

Harry turned to look at him, his eyes practically glistening. Bright green, always burning. Always alive.

“No, babe. Just sit here with me.”

Louis nodded, taking another sip of his beer.

“It’s a beautiful night,” he noted uselessly.

Harry hummed. “The moon is stunning.”

Louis followed his eyeline, staring at the bright rock shining in front of them. He tilted his head, trying to observe the moon. He wanted to understand what Harry saw, how Harry saw the world.

“Louis.”

“Yeah?”

Harry turned towards him, crossing his legs underneath him and twisting his torso so he was facing Louis sideways.

“Do you ever think about moving away from Holmes Chapel?”

Louis furrowed his brows, pondering on the question. “No… not really. Maybe once? Why?”

“Are you going to attend university here?”

He scoffed. “Do I _look_ like I’m capable of uni to you?”

This time, Harry furrowed his brow. “More than capable.”

“That’s nice and all of you to say but Harry, you don’t have to lie to me. I’m your best friend—I can tell when you’re lying.”

Harry looked offended, more than anything. He inched forward so his legs were touching the sides of Louis’ thigh, reaching forward for his hands. Harry gave them a squeeze.

“Look at me.”

Louis was a slave to Harry, couldn’t deny him a thing. He looked to him over his shoulder, instinctively smiling.

“Yeah?”

“You… you are clever, intelligent and wise. You taught me everything about life, you. You taught me to be accepting, to be loving, to be tough and stand my own ground. Fuck school, fuck teachers who don’t realise that.”

Louis giggled, making Harry rise his brow in question.

“You swore.” Louis offered in reply to Harry’s silent question.

“I know…”

“You don’t swear.”

“Yes, I do!” Harry’s voice rose, amusement tingled with his tone. “I totally do! I just don’t swear in every sentence, like you. I’m scared it’ll become an habit and then mum will bite my head off.”

“Can you imagine Anne’s face if she heard you swearing?”

Harry paused, shaking her head. “Rather not.”

They laughed together before falling silent, both their eyes back on the moon. After a moment, Louis looked back at Harry. He stared for a moment, allowed himself to stare openly and unabashedly before taking a sip of the beer.

“Why’d you ask about the moving question?”

Harry turned to look at him, stars in his eyes. “Because.. I think about it a lot, all the time.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm.”

“Where do you want to go?”

He shrugged helplessly. “London, Paris… Copenhagen, Los Angeles. I want to go everywhere.”

“Ambitious.”

Harry looked… disappointed, looking down at his feet that stopped swaying. He stayed motionless, nodding.

“Yeah. You’re right. I’m being stupid.”

Louis frowned. This time he reached out for the physical contact, squeezing Harry’s hand in his own.

“I’m… I didn’t mean that in a bad way. You’re an incredibly ambitious person in the _best_ way possible. I’m rooting for you all the way to go to all these places. Really, Harry. If anyone can make it out of this small village, it’d be you.”

The words seemed to have the perfect effect on Harry, exactly what he had been aiming for. He was beaming, smile stretched out so wide it had to hurt. His cheeks were flushed but he was looking nowhere but directly at Louis.

“Really?”

“Hundred percent.”

“Will you come with me?” He continued to ask, voice giddy. 

“If you’ll allow me to.”

Harry rolled his eyes, reaching forward to swat his shoulders. “Of course, Lou. Who else would I go with?”

The question went unanswered. Louis kept eye contact with his best friend for a few moments longer, a swirl of fondness growing in the pits of his stomach. He was so in love. Before he could do something stupid like confess his undying love, his feelings, he looked away and back up at the moon. He took another swing of the beer, finishing the bottle.

**

Louis arrived at his local pub, the denim jacket pulled across his chest with his hands stuffed in his pocket. He smiled at Audrey from behind the counter. She immediately dropped the dish towel, walking around to him and pulling him into a tight hug.

Audrey was the owner of the pub and for the last seven years he had been attending here since he became legal, the two of them had become acquainted with each other. She was a sweet lady, in her late thirties who had taken over her family business since her parents passed away in a car accident.

Louis was incredibly fond of her. He made sure to visit at least twice a week, listen to her rants about her husband and her daughter. He’d, in return, vent off about the idiots he encountered at work and about Luke, occasionally.

“How are you, love? What will you have?”

“I’m just fine. I’m meeting Niall and Liam here, so I’ll order a round of beers. If that’s okay?”

Audrey smiled. “Perfect,” she kissed his cheeks before walking back around, fixing the order.

Louis picked their usual booth, right next to the TV so they could catch up with the current affairs as the news played in the background all day. Audrey came over a few minutes later, putting the glasses down before resuming to cleaning tables.

Liam and Niall came in together barely five minutes later, chattering amongst each other.

Liam used to work in McDonald’s when Louis had first started. He was the supervisor, had been working there since he was sixteen and by the age of twenty-one, he was ready to move on and find something more stable. Regardless, they spent the better half of that year side-by-side, working alongside each other.

They had hit it off immediately. There was something easy about Liam’s personality, made it easy to talk to, to get along with which Louis appreciated. They’d talk throughout their entire shift, get up to mischief causing the manager to have to tell them off.

When Liam was given the opportunity to work in a finance company, he took the chance and quit McDonald’s. Not long after, Niall joined McDonald’s and took over Liam’s job. Louis introduced the two of them and now, the three of them were best friends.

“Hello, guys!” Louis greeted as they approached the booth, all smiles.

Liam reached down to give him a side hug, ruffling up Louis’ hair as Niall entered the booth and reached forward, engulfing in an hug. He always felt accepted by his mates, there was never a dull moment between them and there was nobody else he’d rather spend the day with. 

“Aw, you ordered our drinks,” Liam said, a touch of appreciation in his voice as he took a long sip. “Jesus. I needed that.”

“Boss kicking your ass?” Louis asked.

“You fucking bet. I have, like… a thousand and one clients to adhere to. It’s really killing me.”

Louis hummed, thoughts wandering to the finished, untouched novel sitting in the bottom drawer, buried under his underwear. He wondered if he’d ever be brave enough to read it back to himself, to ever show it to his friends or get it published. He doubted it.

“Listen, it’s better than serving fries all day long,” Niall reminded him, cutting through the silence.

“True,” Liam said, laughing. “Cheers to that.”

They spent the next two hours catching up on each other’s lives. Louis was normally in tune with Niall’s routine, saw him five days a week at work and spent almost every work break with him, there wasn’t much gossip to discuss when they did all of that during work. But he ceased to see Liam as often, their demanding and different routines affecting the time they had left to spend together.

Liam worked through the weekdays, Louis worked the weekends. It never worked out in their favour.

But some days, like today, it worked out perfectly and they had a chance to come to their favourite pub, grab a drink and get up to speed.

It was only when they were on their second glass of beer, the mood had lightened up and their laughter was more insistent when they heard what was being reported on the news. Audrey had walked to the TV, turning it up and frowning a little as she watched the headlines with concentration.

Louis, curious, looked above his head to find out what had everybody so interested in the news.

The news was reporting on a celebrity. Specifically, a ghost from Louis’ past: Harry Styles. The news reporter’s face was grave as he spoke, addressing the fact that Harry Styles had collapsed during his latest show last night in Brazil due to exhaustion. He had, apparently, been touring for almost an entire year constantly, with little to no break. 

Louis frowned, eyes falling to his half empty glass as he traced the rim to ignore the hammering of his heart against his chest.

“Harry Styles, the twenty-three year old pop star who has taken the world by storm in only four years is now returning to his hometown. He has announced a break from his tour for an entire month, where he says he’ll refuel his energy back with his mother and stepfather.”

Both of his mates sitting with him didn’t understand Louis’ history with Harry, had never been informed. Louis hadn’t talked about Harry since they had said goodbye to him four years ago, when Harry had promised Louis they’ll keep in touch, when Louis had encouraged him to go after his dreams, chase them and own them.

He had been at the train station, stroking Harry’s hair and wiping away the insistent tears. He had been there to wave Harry off when he had stepped into the train, walking away from Holmes Chapel.

It was supposed to be temporary.

He had never returned since, not really. He might’ve dropped by a few times in the first couple months, always giddy with new exciting things to share about his record label, his manager. But when he had released his first single and received flying reviews, gaining support instantly—Harry’s presence disappeared almost indefinitely.

The visits stopped, the texts came in less and less until they stopped, too. Louis dropped out of university—he lost interest in pretty much anything and resorted to working in McDonald’s, uprooting and ruining his entire life at the loss of his childhood best friend who didn’t seem to give a damn in return. Who seemed to be living his life in London, Los Angeles or wherever the fuck he lived now.

Yet, Louis couldn’t stop caring about Harry.

He had, since, moved on. He had Luke now. He wasn’t hung over Harry, not since a year or more. But he couldn’t remove the soft spot he had implanted for Harry within himself, the concern that instantly flooded him at the news of Harry’s collapse.

Niall tutted, taking a sip of his beer. “Pop stars,” he said like it was a misfortune they merely existed. “Worked to the brink of extinction. It’s a pity, really.”

“Yeah. Harry Styles seems like a good lad, and all. I swear he used to live here, in Holmes Chapel?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve seen him around once or twice.”

“Funny,” Liam mused. “Someone from here, making it out there? An achievement.”

Louis remained stubbornly silent, had nothing to offer to the conversation. He sipped at his beer, gulping down the remainder of his drink. He refused to listen into Liam and Niall’s conversation any longer, tuning out and finding the edge of his glass much more fascinating, tracing the rim.

“Louis? Lou? Looooou?”

His head snapped up at the insistent calling for him, eyes focusing in on Liam who was waving a hand in front of his face. He smiled at his mate, settling back in the plushed booth seat.

“Yeah, sorry? What were you saying?”

“I was asking if you knew Harry? Personally? Since he was from Holmes chapel.”

Louis gulped but shook his head. “Nah, mate. Didn't know really know.” He lied right through his teeth, taking a long sip of his beer.

“Oh,” Liam narrowed his brows, nodding as he finished his beer. “Strange. He’s going to get stalked mindlessly by the girls here.”

“Yeah,” he replied absentmindedly, mind wandering somewhere else.

**

It was the day after when he and Johannah were watching TV together, old reruns of Great British Bake off and cups of tea when the topic of Harry was brought up again. He had just finished a nine hour shift where Niall told him he had overheard the manager talking about possibly promoting Louis.

His mood had been heightened all day because of it.

He had barely batted an eyelash when a customer had yelled at him, simply offering the man a smile and a refund. He didn’t even heave a sigh when a lady’s child split all their coke over the floor. He had been there in a jiff, with a mop—ready and prepared. He wanted this promotion.

Louis hadn’t even realised his entire life had become based around McDonald’s. That realisation was a mood killer.

Johannah turned to face him better, a hesitant smile twitching at her lips. 

“I have a feeling I know what you’re going to say,” Louis filled in for her without even looking away from the screen at Mary Berry’s judging of a disastrous Victoria sponge cake, taking another sip of his tea.

“You do?”

“You can just say it.”

She looked uncertain and took another lingering sip of her tea, hands shaking around the cup she was holding.

“I saw the news.”

Louis sighed, instantly gearing up to keep his defence mechanism in place.

“Okay?”

“I heard about Harry,” she said the name with some delicately, putting it softly like it was going to tear him apart. “I know he’s coming back to Holmes Chapel, might already be here by now.”

“Good for him.”

“Darling, are you not going to spare him a visit?”

He pursued his lips and genuinely considered the option. It wasn’t like there was a huge argument that took place that needed to be sorted out, they had simply drifted apart. Harry didn’t have time for him in his new found haze of fame, caught up with the money and the girls and the paparazzi. Louis couldn’t blame him for not remembering Holmes Chapel—a small village in Cheshire, in England.

“Probably not,” he replied honestly.

Johannah didn’t look surprise, facial features didn’t even shift.

“At all?”

Louis shrugged. “I’m sure he doesn’t want to see me.”

“What makes you say so?”

“Perhaps, the radio silence in the past four year?”

Her lips twitched. “What about the postcards?”

“Postcards?” Louis repeated, raising a brow skeptically at her question. “Every now and then, he sends a postcard memorabilia of wherever he’s travelling to, addressing it to the whole family. There’s no sincerity, no depth. It’s almost like he’s trying to rub it in our faces one last time that he’s a fucking pop star travelling the world.”

Johannah seemed to consider her son for a long moment, silent before she sighed.

“I don’t see it the same way. But I understand why you would.”

He shrugged, unable to find the words to argue. It was always exhausting trying to fight the topic of Harry, even more so when it included his mother in the conversation. Johannah was always desperate to defend the younger boy, defend leaving Holmes Chapel and defend Harry’s need to cut everyone off.

Perhaps if Louis hadn’t been desperately pining for Harry, it wouldn’t have been that hard for him.

He would’ve been able to accept the news, the inevitable drifting apart that came with the territory of moving away. It wouldn’t be so bad. But there was more to the story than just two best friends, one successful and one, not so much.

“I’m ashamed,” Louis admitted after a moment or two of silence.

Johannah furrowed her brows together. “What? Ashamed of what, dear?”

“Of… myself. When I think of Harry.”

Another beat passed. Johannah reached over for the TV remote, pausing the baking show before turning to face him. She put her mug of tea down now, shaking her head gently.

“Ashamed of yourself? I’m not understanding you.”

He fidgeting with his hands, regretting his words immediately. “Because… like, we came from the same village, we grew up together. We both had ambitions,” the thought of the untouched novel poked his mind, bugging him. Maybe, he should just burn it. “But only he was able to get out and make something of himself. Four years later, he’s one of the biggest pop stars in the _world_ , people desire him, die for him. And me? Well, I’m just Louis, working in McDonald’s, pining after the supervisor role at work which will only lead to more hours and more work.”

“Louis,” she had cut in before he had even finished, looking somewhat distraught. “Just ‘cause Harry was able to make it out there, doesn’t mean you’re any less of a man than he is. Becoming you famous doesn’t make you a man. You work a full-time job at a vigorous, fast-paced environment. You are a wonderful brother to your sisters. They adore you, truly. You’re a great friend, heartfelt, selfless and you’re incredibly hardworking. Being a man doesn’t mean having a lot of money.”

He felt a smile twitching at his lips, tears stinging his eyes. “Muuuuum…” He whined, touched by her words. 

“It’s the truth,” she shrugged as she resumed to drink her tea, unpausing the TV. “I won’t stand you thinking any less of yourself.”

“I won’t say it again.”

“Not just not say it again,” Johannah sighed. “But actually _believe_ it.”

“I will,” Louis promised though he was sure it wouldn’t be that easy, draining the last sip of his tea and putting it down on the table. “But I’m still not going to go see him. If he wants to, he knows where I am.”

Johannah didn’t say anything. She simply shrugged, seemingly done with the conversation of Harry and instead, bringing up one of the contestant’s plan to make lace pancakes.

 

**

[ Fleetwood Mac - Never Going Back Again](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sKj1EFeU-cM)

 

The day, so far, had been going good. He was on till duty, which meant he didn’t need to readily get involved with any of the food preparing unless it was busy and they needed extra hands or it was something easy like the milkshakes. The restaurant was playing good tunes since Niall had connected his phone to the speaker system, Fleetwood Mac had been steadily playing throughout the entire shift. He only had four hours left and Louis was in high spirits.

He waited by the till for the next customer, rolling his head around to find relief from the kinks. He ignored the sharp pang of pain shooting up the back of his neck. It was only expected from his shifts. Maybe he’d need a massage to help his back.

“Louis!” He heard a co-worker calling for him.

Louis turned around to face the back of the kitchen, craning his head to reach out to whoever had called his name. 

“Yeah, mate?” He called back.

No response.

He furrowed his brows, deciding if it was important he’d get called again. He turned back around, logging into the computer to take the next order. Just four more hours of taking orders, preparing drinks and he could retreat back to his bed.

Resisting a sigh threatening to escape him, Louis looked up and began speaking.

“Welcome to McDonald’s, what can I get—”

His speech fell short when he realised who he was stood before, whom he was faced by. Louis’ mouth was left hanging, fingers still in the air, about to press down for a new order. He ignored the sudden racing of his heartbeat, hundred percent sure the entire restaurant could hear it.

Before him stood Harry, himself, in the flesh—in person. 

The past four years had been kind to him. He had grown even taller. He had lost his baby fat, toned in all the right places in his fitted blazer, his shirt clinging to his abs. His curly springy hair had grown out, now short but loose, curling around his ears. But it was still Harry, beneath it all—it was still the bright, piercing green eyes, the smile that could make the whole world stop spinning on it’s axis, the same deep dimples and the captivating aura that had everyone drooling over him.

Harry had seemed to recognise Louis, too. He was staring straight at him, eyes widened in surprise.

They both stood there, unmoving, not speaking.

It was when the man next to Harry nudged him, laughing that Louis noticed Harry wasn’t alone.

“Harry. It’s your order, silly.”

The man besides him was attractive, Louis couldn’t deny it. He had raven black hair, pulled back in an elegant, perfect quiff with wide, light brown eyes. He reeked of hipster and mysterious, carrying the aura with his tone.

Harry’s eyes drifted to the man besides him, offering a tight smile before back at Louis.

Before Louis could say hello, ask him how he was, start some sort of conversation to end the sufferable silence between them—Harry beat him to the chase.

“Yeah, hello.” He said gruffly, barely sparing him a second glance as he glanced the menu with frantic eyes. “Two Big Mac’s, please.”

Louis’ insides deflated. 

Every hope, dream he had held for the two of them somewhere safe in the back of his mind had shattered. Because here they were, after years, and Harry had effectively acted like he had no idea who Louis was. Did he really forget? That was unlikely. Harry sent him and his family postcards, pictures and every now and then, he’d like Louis’ pictures on Instagram—once in a blue moon. 

Harry knew exactly who Louis was. They had been friends since they were toddlers, growing up together in their prams and chasing each other around the park. He _knew_ and he had acted like he had no idea who Louis was.

He gritted his teeth, viciously stabbing the computer in front of him.

“What drinks would you like with that, _sir_?” Louis asked through his teeth.

Harry’s eyes narrowed, a hint of pain and remorse behind them but he kept up the facade. 

“Both diet coke’s, please.”

“Eat in or take away?”

“Take away, please.”

“Coming right up. That’ll be £4.69, please.”

Harry held his card out and tapped it against the contactless pay, looking unsure and out of place.

Louis didn’t look to him twice, anymore. He didn’t have the nerve to do so. He was sure he’d say something he’d regret if he dared made eye contact with him, his big mouth would get the best of him. He simply handed the receipt, stepping out of the way.

He grabbed the cup containers, filling the coke to the brim and attaching the lid on top.

Another worker had prepared the meal already, the bag ready to be handed to Harry. Louis grabbed it, roughly shoving tissues, sauces and thrusting it out on the counter. He normally handed it to the customer, thanked them but he had no patience to deal with Harry. He had just seen the man he had loved since he was a young teen and the man had pretended he had no idea who Louis was.

“Order 3045, ready.” He called for Harry’s order before walking away. He couldn’t stand behind the till and look Harry in the eye. He needed a cigarette. Or five. Maybe a drink.

He walked right to the back to his locker, grabbing his cigarettes. Niall was there already, sitting on the chair and going through his phone.

“Going on a break?” Niall asked when he looked up from his screen, narrowing his eyes.

“Mhmm.” 

Louis lit up a cigarette once he was outside, leaning against the wall and willed the thoughts of Harry away from his mind.

**

Exactly four and half hours later, Louis was driving back home from his shift. It had started off good, decent and ended disastrously since he had faced Harry. Ever since their encounter, he couldn’t push the thoughts of Harry out of his mind. He couldn’t stop letting his mind wander—how he had been ignored, forgotten but also, how good Harry looked. How healthy, happy and mindful he had looked.

Despite it all, Louis was glad that Harry was okay. He had never pegged on news, articles, media outlets like Daily Mail to deliver his news about his former best mate.

Louis parked up the car outside his house, cutting off the engine and exhaling deeply. Leaning back against the headrest, he let the radio keep playing the top ten big hits as he lit up another cigarette, taking a long drag.

It was a habit he had been become accustomed to for the past four years. It was almost second nature for him to naturally edge for a cigarette if he had gone for a few hours without. Addiction was a killer, both physically to his body and his bank account.

He, then, extracted himself from the car, locking it up. He unlocked his front door, stepping inside.

Louis called out. “Mum! I’m home!” As he toed off his vans, stretching out his toes and trying to relieve the intense pressure on his heels after having been stood up all day. He threw the McDonald’s cap off, running a hand through his unkempt hair. “Mum!” He said again, when there was no reply.

“In here, sweetie.”

Louis smiled. Even after everything, the relief was he was able to go home to his mother everyday. That someone accepting, loving was always there to welcome him back with open arms.

Johannah was sitting on the couch and besides her was… Harry.

Louis halted in his steps, coming to a stop just by the doorway as he analysed the scene before him to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

Surely enough, there was Harry. He was wearing the same clothes from the McDonald’s visit prior. He was sitting in Louis’ house, on their couch with a mug in his hands that was _Louis’_ , the white and black mug, with an ‘L’ painted on the front.

That, out of everything, seemed to anger him the most.

Louis ignored Harry, also effectively ignoring how his chest was tightened painfully and how he was reeling from the fact that Harry was in his childhood home after four years. The same house they had grown up in together.

Instead, he settled his eyes on his mother.

“What is he doing here?” Louis asked cooly.

The McDonald’s uniform on him clung like shame. He felt embarrassed and a part of him wanted to rip off the shirt, throw it to the ground. Another part of him didn’t want to give Harry the satisfaction of bothering him like that. Here, in his house, sat a famous pop star and he was nothing but a McDonald’s worker.

Johannah looked nervous as her eyes drifted between the two of them.

“I—”

“He can leave now.” Louis decided, impatient.

Harry looked torn, biting his lips with genuine shame in his eyes. He looked between Johannah and Louis then lowered his eyes on the ground, a dark look casted over his face. Louis wanted to care, he wanted to feel sympathy. If it had been any other day, he might’ve even just embraced Harry and acted like nothing had changed.

But after today, at what had happened in McDonald’s—Louis didn’t have a single caring bone in his body to give.

“Louis.” She said sternly.

“Mum, I mean it.”

Harry cleared his throat, taking a step forward. He reached out to squeeze Johannah’s shoulders softly, shaking his head.

“No, no. It’s okay, I get it. I’ll leave.”

She reached out, halting him. “Absolutely not. Louis, what _is_ your problem?”

“What is _my_ problem?” He repeated, incredulous that he was being treated like the bad person here.

Johannah looked genuinely sorrowful, though. Hurt that he wasn’t trying to reconcile with Harry and that look on her face, he couldn’t tolerate. He hated seeing his mother hurt like that, disappointed in him. Louis heaved a heavy sigh, diverting his gaze to a beaten down, ashamed Harry.

“What’re you doing here?” Louis decided to address him directly.

Harry’s head snapped up, surprised. “I… why wouldn’t I come here if I was visiting?” He asked, sounding confused and talked slowly like he was trying to spell out the words. “I always come here when I visit.”

“Do I need to remind you the last time you visited? Years ago? Why would you think that same rule still applies? I’m sorry,” he stopped himself, shaking his head. “Do you even know who I fucking am? Because you sure as hell didn’t seem to recognise me before.”

Harry looked panic-stricken, Johannah bewildered.

“Can we talk outside, please?” Harry asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Why? You sure as hell didn’t want to talk to me before.”

“Please.”

Maybe it was the pleading tone coupled with his expression, genuinely regretful. Maybe it was the fact that Louis had a soft spot for him, could never remove it no matter how hard he tried. No matter what, he was always going to care for Harry and he was always going to accommodate to his needs, as much as possible.

Louis looked to Johannah who didn’t seem to understand the situation at all but gave a tight nod.

[ Lord Huron - The Night We Met ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KtlgYxa6BMU)

“Come on, then,” he heaved a heavy sigh, pulling at the hem of his shirt and walking to the front door.

He opened it up for Harry, stepping outside and immediately making a beeline for the brick wall where he sat on outside the house. He extracted a cigarette, lighting it up and taking a long drag as Harry followed gracefully and sat down besides him. Harry stared at him for a few moments but didn’t comment about his new habit, just swallowing and shoving his hands into his pockets.

Louis tried to ignore the erratic beating of his heart to be sat besides Harry after years, how natural and normal it used to feel and how it wrong it felt now. It used to be an everyday routine for him, to be sat out here and watch the sunset. Or to be sat on the roof, hands touching and giggles erupting from them.

There was nothing left, now.

Neither of them spoke as Louis smoked, watching the smoke blow up into the air and curl away.

“Can I have one?” Harry finally asked, breaking the silence.

He shrugged as he grabbed the packet out of his pocket, throwing it to Harry without looking towards him and handing the lighter. Harry mumbled a thanks as he accepted it, cupping his hands over the cigarette as he lit it up.

“Didn’t know you smoked.” Louis decided on saying.

“Times change.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Harry didn’t respond. He opted for the silent route, taking a drag and exhaling the smoke. They both watched it curl up into the air as the silence ensued between them.

“I’m sorry.” Harry broke the quietness, looking straight at Louis. He suddenly looked young again, the same fifteen-year old boy with eager eyes, eager to please. He didn’t look twenty-three, a multimillionaire successful popstar. 

“For what?” There was many things Harry should be sorry for, really. 

“For pretending I didn’t know you.”

“Right.” Louis sucked his teeth, sighing. “Yeah. That was shitty.”

“I just.. I don’t know, freaked out.”

“Afraid to let your equally rich friends know that you knew somebody who now works in McDonald’s?”

Harry looked tortured, diverting his gaze downwards. “He isn’t my millionaire friend,” he corrected, shaking his head as he tapped the cigarette, ashes falling to the ground. “He’s my manager: Zayn.”

“Great for you.” Louis deadpanned, not getting the answer he was expecting.

“Are you mad at me?”

Louis scoffed, unsure how to placate a single emotion that was coursing through his body right now. Maybe he was mad. But it definitely wasn’t the only emotion he was feeling.

“Mad? I don’t know, Harry. I don’t know.”

“I should’ve been in touch more, I know. I was… just busy, lost sense of myself.”

Louis shrugged. How was he supposed to tell him that the world hadn’t gone on without him? That every single day for the past four years, he had thought of Harry and where he was, what he was doing—whether or not Harry would’ve stayed if he knew how Louis had felt. There were millions of questions that he seeked the answers for and now that he had Harry in his space, he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

“Yeah.” He said plainly, not in the mood for reunion and such conversations.

Harry must’ve taken the hint and understood the mood between them because he didn’t push it any longer, simply sighing as he sucked on the end of his cigarette. They both watched the smoke that was released from the stick.

Eventually Louis swallowed his pride and asked. He knew why Harry was back in Holmes Chapel, after all and he’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t pondered over Harry’s health in the past few days. It was so like Harry, to throw himself at everything he tried to conquer that his health would be compromised.

“Are you okay?” 

Harry looked confused when he was addressed to, looking over and furrowing his brow.

“What do you mean?”

“I asked.. If you’re okay, you know—the collapse?”

Louis had been watching the video of Harry’s collapse multiple times a day, though it hurt to watch. He wasn’t sure why he kept clicking on the video. He had never followed a single day of Harry’s career. In the beginning, he had been too heartbroken to do so, rendered completely useless because of his love for Harry. As the years went on, he became too bitter and resentful to do so, not wanting to watch what he was missing out on. It all hurt too much. 

But the collapse video had appeared on his Facebook feed, on his Twitter page, on the TV. Everywhere. And he had become victim to it.

It was during one of Harry’s concerts in Sweden. He was prancing around the stage, though he looked scarily pale. He tried to talk, interact through the microphone and before anyone knew it, he was on the floor.

Harry looked surprised that Louis had asked such a question, holding eye contact with Louis for a minute before he licked his lips, nodding slowly. There was a ghost of a smile twitching but it didn’t extend.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. I had been dehydrated and exhausted by the hours of work I was putting in. It was bound to happen.”

“Isn’t your manager aware of like… taking care of you, making sure you’re not overworking yourself?”

He chuckled a little, eyes distant. “Yeah. Zayn is.”

“Then why?”

“We’ve both been busy and neglecting ourselves. After the collapse, we both realised we needed some time. He came back to Holmes Chapel with me to meet my family. We’ve been best friends for nearly three years, he deserves to know my family. Now that we’ve realised our mistakes, we’re trying to be careful and sensible with our work timetable.”

“Mhmm.”

Louis would’ve thought hearing about Harry’s life, by now, would get any easier. But it hadn’t. 

They sat there in silence. Louis pondered of the information he had been told, only able to pick up on the fact that he had been easily replaced by Zayn. Zayn was now the new best friend, the new confidant and Harry’s trusty manager. No wonder he was no longer needed in Harry’s life, had been cut out and removed. 

When Louis finished his cigarette, he stood up.

“Do you… um, want to come inside? Or?” He offered out of courtesy, eyes squinted as he looked down at Harry. He knew Johannah would be livid if he didn’t, at least, ask.

Harry stood up too, putting his cigarette out and slowly shaking his head.

“No. I better go.”

Louis tried not to acknowledge the disappointment that spread through him, nodding slowly at him. He took a step back, towards the door and away from Harry. He had just managed to have a full-on conversation that actually meant something after nearly four years and he didn’t want the moment of magic to end so soon.

But it was coming to an end.

Harry swallowed audibly, looking equally as distraught but he didn’t say anything.

“I’ll see you around?” He suggested.

Louis slowly nodded. “Sure.”

Harry offered a wave. “Say thank you and goodbye to Johannah.”

“I will do.”

Louis watched him walk away.

**

[ Coldplay - Green Eyes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gmyq9tIiu8g)

There was a knock on Louis’ door around 8pm, just before he was about to take Blueberry for a walk. He tugged on his leash gently so he could retrieve the door, the golden lab jumping up and down excitedly at the prospect of going out.

Behind the door stood Harry, again. His hair had been pulled out of the way by a bandana, dressed in casual attire, a tee and worn out black jeans. There was another cigarette between his fingers but it was mostly finished, he put it out against the wall and threw the butt into the bin.

Louis stared at him for a moment, in shock. He still wasn’t used to the idea of the boy back in the village, wandering around. It hadn’t happened in years, hadn’t seen Harry in forever. Now, he had just seen Harry thrice in one day. It was all… too much.

“Hey…” Louis said, confused.

Harry looked at the dog, though. His eyes lit up like he had just discovered the meaning of life. He crouched down, reaching out to pet the dog. Blueberry instantly took a liking to Harry, rubbing his head against his thighs as Harry stroked the top of his head.

“So adorable! Girl or boy?” Harry asked.

“Boy.”

“Aren’t you a pretty, boy, huh? Who's a pretty boy?” Harry spoke to Blueberry like his best friend. “What’s your name, huh?”

“Blueberry. Blue,” Louis supplied for him, a smile threatening to take over but he forced his facial features to remain neutral.

“Blue,” Harry repeated happily. “Is he yours?”

Louis nodded, clearing his throat. “Yeah. Mine and my boyfriend, Luke’s.”

It was like he had just said the most offensive thing in the world judging by how Harry’s hands halted over where he had been petting affection to Blueberry. He looked up to Louis through his lashes and the previous fondness towards the dog disappeared, replaced with.. Nothing. His face was void of emotion, not displaying a single thing. 

“Oh.”

Louis didn’t attempt to read into the situation anymore. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. He merely nodding.

“Yeah. Blue’s a good boy. We’ve had him for two years, got him from a shelter.”

“Were you going for a walk?”

“We were.” The silence stretched between them, compelling Louis to ask with a sigh. “Do you want to come with us?”

Harry nodded. “I’d like that.”

He got up from the floor, wiping his hands on his knees before allowing Louis to take the lead. As soon as Blueberry started to walk, he got faster, more eager. Louis kept the dog at his house, even though Luke had brought Blue for them. It had been a way for Luke to buy love back after he had royally fucked up with Louis. It had been the same night that Niall had declared Luke an abusive boyfriend, a label everyone had soon adapted.

“Where are we going?” Harry asked as he walked besides him, hands in his pocket and keeping his eyes trained on Blueberry, not gazing anywhere else.

“Just the park.”

“Do you live with Luke, or?” Harry questioned, unable to keep the curiosity out of his tone.

Louis shook his head. “No. He has a busy timetable and.. I don’t know, not ready to move in yet.”

Harry nodded. Apparently, that had answered all his questions because he had nothing else to say about the boyfriend. Louis was glad for that because he couldn’t talk about, not with Harry. Luke was a part of his life that he kept mostly private for the past two years.

They walked in silence to the park. Their eyes were both trained on Blueberry or the road, or the sky above them. It was awkward and it was hard for Louis to comprehend what the hell was going on. What the hell went wrong. Usually, they would be full of conversation, jokes. There never used to be a dull moment between them, always had something to discuss, something to laugh about.

Now, they felt damaged beyond repair. It had been four years and everything had changed.

The park was relatively empty at 8pm. It was an hour till closing time and everyone was retreating back to their homes, the path ahead of them clear of anybody. Louis let go of Blue’s leash, letting him run wild and free around the park.

Harry kept glued by Louis’ side, though he didn’t say anything. He kept his eyes transfixed on Blueberry, making sounds with his lips everytime Blue ran back around to them.

“Are you staying at Anne’s?” Louis found himself asking, just to fill the insufferable silence between them, somehow.

He nodded at Louis’ questions. “Yeah, yeah.”

“How long are you back for, then?” 

“I don’t know.” Harry said honestly, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe a month, or so. I have a tour to return to.”

“Right. Of course.”

Questions about his career were heavy on his tongue but he resisted. He had avoided it for so long, he could continue doing exactly that.

“So.. what happened to our flat?” Harry finally asked, looking over with a look in his eyes. Like he was hurt.

Louis held his stare for a moment before exhaling a breath. He didn’t get the chance to respond immediately, thankfully, because Blueberry came running back to him. It was clear he wanted to play. Louis got out the ball he had brought for Blue, ruffling his fur before throwing the ball as far as he could go. Blue broke out into a ran, chasing after them.

Only then did he look back to Harry, indulging him.

“Harry. I couldn’t afford a flat on my own. You should know that. I was a uni student,” He said simply. “I had to sell it and move on.”

Harry narrowed his eyes, looking suspicious. 

“You could’ve told me that.”

“Told you what? Told you _how?_ Are you forgetting we haven’t spoken over the years? That it’s been nothing but radio silence?”

Harry remained stubbornly silent, holding fierce eye contact before he sighed and looked away. Louis lit up another cigarette, taking a long drag and looking out over the expansive park. Blue came running back to them, dropping the ball in front of Louis. He repeated his actions, watching the lab run away, again.

“So, you’re living with Johannah now. Indefinitely?” Harry continued to question and as much as he wanted to tell Harry to mind his own business, he found himself answering the questions.

“I don’t know. If I can find a place, with either myself or Luke, I’ll take the opportunity. But I’m happy where I am for the time being.”

“Right.”

Louis knew he should’ve informed Harry he was selling their shared flat. When he had turned eighteen, and Harry sixteen—they had moved in together. Anne hadn’t been so fond of the decision, not wanting to let go of her son so early on but Louis assured they wouldn’t go too far from Holmes Chapel.

They had gotten a flat in Warrington, just shy of a thirty minute drive back into their village. Upon seeing their beautiful flat, Anne had agreed willingly and both of their mothers had helped them move into the place.

But when Harry had left, all the memories they had build there, all the love they had shared—it felt empty. Everywhere he turned, it reminded him of Harry. The trips to IKEA, building furniture together and the first night in their flat together. The first time they had argued and the first time they had a serious discussion about Harry’s future.

He made the decision within days: packing up his belongings into suitcases, putting his flat back onto the market and moving in with his mother. He took up a job at McDonald’s, dropping out of university and since, had never looked back. But with Harry back in the village, it felt like he had nothing to do _but_ look back on their past.

They sat in silence for the rest of the time in the park. Louis didn’t have anything to say except numbly smoke away. Apparently, chain smoking was a part of his agenda today and he hadn’t even been aware.

Harry, eventually, got up and ran alongside Blue across the park, playing with him. He was a natural with Louis’ dog—of course he was—and Louis was forced to sit there and admire it. Everyone that encountered Harry fell in love with him, his aura and charisma, whether it was a human being or a dog.

Louis wanted to snap a picture of the moment but he didn’t want to keep any lingering memories around, didn’t want to get accustomed to building new fond memories when he was going to have to watch Harry walk away. Again. This was temporary, he kept trying to repeat to himself. Harry being back in the village was for a month, tops before he’d disappear and it’d be like he had never returned in the first place.

When it got darker and the sun had set, they had to leave the park.

They walked back to Louis’ house despite his protests that he could walk himself home and Harry should part ways and go back to Anne’s. Harry remained stubborn, holding onto Blue’s leash and walking all the way home.

“Um, actually.” Harry said when they arrived outside Louis’ house. “Mum invited you and Johannah over for dinner tomorrow. She insisted, since it’s been so long we’ve all been together at the same time.”

Louis had a snarky remark ready but he sucked his teeth, letting out a breath and nodding. There was no point in holding grudges right now.

“Yeah, okay. Mum would love that.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

He smiled, nodding. “Cool. Bye, Louis.”

Louis didn’t bother responding, unlocking the door and walking inside and not daring to spare Harry another glance.

**

 

Anne’s house was just like Louis remembered it. In the past four years, his communication with Harry’s mother had ceased to exist. He loved Anne but it was hard to be around her house, around the memories that flooded him and left him senseless. For a while, he was angry that Anne hadn’t done more to stop her son from leaving and travelling to Los Angeles to live, travelling the world at the vulnerable age of nineteen.

If he was hurting from losing the love of his life, his best friend—how was she coping from losing her son?

The thought spiraled his mind constantly and naturally, he found the bond between them breaking apart.

Louis still saw her, though. He’d drop by every now and then and bring Blue around, they’d go for a walk around the village, he’d buy her groceries and drop them off, he’d attend her and Robin’s birthday parties, he’d travel into Liverpool to see Gemma.

Louis kept in touch with them all but… not enough. Not like before. It had hurt too much and after he had broken down to Anne, he had been too embarrassed. After he had told Anne just how broken he was over Harry, he felt vulnerable and needed to put space between them but Anne never complained, she took what she could get.

Anne was just like how he remembered when she opened the door, smelling like warm, freshly baked cookies and a soft, squint in her eyes when she embraced Louis. She patted him on the back, whispering in his ear.

“I’m so glad you could make it.”

Louis sank in her arms, smiling into her neck. “Me too, Anne.”

She pulled away, still smiling as she edged for Johannah and repeated her actions.

“Come in. Make yourselves at home. Harry’s just taking a business call, he’ll be out soon.”

_Of course he was._

They settled in the living room and Louis scanned around the room, taking in the changes since he hadn’t visited in the past few months. There were new photo frames: Anne and Robin in Los Angeles, one frame of just the two of them with the Hollywood sign in the back, one frame with Harry standing besides them. Another frame of Anne, Gemma and Harry in New York, another frame of the whole family in Australia, it seemed.

He tried not to acknowledge the pang of hot jealousy coiling inside of him. Harry had taken his family on vacations with his newfound fortune but hadn’t spared much thought for Louis except a flimsy postcard every few months.

Another photo frame of Harry performing in Madison Square Gardens, taken by one of the family members. Harry was standing with his arms stretched out, looking up to the roof of the arena. 

Something pained inside of him and Louis diverted his attention away before he could dwell too long. He had never questioned or explored much of Harry’s career, had always found it difficult to do so. It was selfish of him but he couldn’t help it. Harry had performed Madison Square Gardens and he couldn’t help but feel the pride swell within him.

Johannah and Anne kept a steady conversation going, two old best friends catching up on each other’s lives. Every now and then, a flow of laughter would erupt from them as they’d laugh and joke about certain people around the village. There was a hint of familiarity between them and Louis’ heart warmed.

Then Harry walked into the room.

He was wearing high-waisted, loose striped trousers and he was pulling it off unfairly, exceptionally well paired with a black tee. He looked radiant as he walked into the living room, immediately making a beeline for Johannah.

“Hello, love,” Harry said to her, rubbing her back. “Did you get here okay?”

Johannah let out a laugh as she pulled away. “We barely live ten minutes away, babe. More than okay.”

“My mistake,” he laughed. Then, he looked over to Louis and offered a timid smile. “You alright?” He whispered.

Louis remained on the sofa, nodding. “Yeah.”

“Good, good.” He clapped his hands together. “Good to have the gang back in one room! I’ll finish off dinner for us.”

Harry nodded at them before turning on his heel, retreating back to the kitchen. Louis’ eyeline followed his back.

“He learned to cook since he moved away,” Anne supplied for them though nobody asked. “He prepared everything today. Such a talented boy.”

Johannah jumped in to agree immediately, full of praises for the boy. But Louis couldn’t feel the same. He excused himself to go outside to take a smoke, reeling in from the sudden changes in the past few days.

For the past four years, life had been different. Ever since Harry had packed his bags from their shared flat and they had said goodbye to each other at the train station—Louis’ life had changed forever. He had lost his best friend indefinitely that day. Whether or not they kept in contact, it had ceased to remain as strong. It had become weak and easily breakable, consumed by negativity instead.

Something that felt so good, so alive felt had started to feel the complete opposite.

Even if they had seen each other every now and then, it was different. There was a time limit, there was awkwardness and silence, it was taken over by Harry’s fame and nothing else. Nothing existed.

Now that Harry was back in town with nothing _but_ time, it was strange.

Louis exhaled sharply as he took another drag, trying to calm himself down from his thoughts that threatened to spiral out of control. After fifteen minutes or so, the front door opened to reveal Anne.

“Hon, the dinner is ready.”

He nodded, smiling for her, putting out the cigarette and following her inside.

As promised, the dinner was ready and laid out on the table. Harry had gone all out, preparing different dishes. For starter, there was chicken samosas with sweet chilli dip. For the main course, there was a few options: grilled salmon with noodles, slow cooked grilled chicken and for the dessert, at the end of the table was profiteroles. 

Johannah looked stunned as she looked over the vast variety, eyes wide.

“Did you cook all of this?”

Harry grinned, looking pleased. “Yes! Just the dip, courtesy of Tesco’s. But yeah.”

“Holy moly. How did you learn to cook like this?”

His smile remained in tact though it twitched, eyes wandering to Louis for a moment before he cleared his throat.

“My ex girlfriend in Los Angeles was a professional chef. She passed on some knowledge to me and I took it and ran a mile with it.”

“It looks wonderful!”

“I’d like to know how you think it tastes, too!” Harry laughed brightly, pulling out a chair for Johannah and Louis, gesturing for them to sit.

Louis did, looking over the choices and feeling overwhelmed. In the end, Harry did the deed for him. He put a samosa in for him, putting the dip on the side before placing a bit of the noodles, a grilled chicken leg piece to go with it and put the plate before him.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, appreciatively.

They all waited for Harry to prepare his plate before they started to eat together.

He took a bite into the light, crispy pastry of the samosa as his eyes widened. It was… perfect, delicately cooked with the perfect lamb filling. With the dip, it was even better—getting the best taste of both hint of spicy but balanced out with the sweet.

Johannah was humming in delight. “It’s beautiful, Harry!”

Everyone’s eyes wandered to Louis as they waited for his verdict, he swallowed loudly.

“Wonderful.” He offered pathetically, immediately burying his face into another bite of the samosa as to prove his point.

Harry basked in the compliments though, a halo practically visible over his head. He beamed, saying his thanks. He passed around the drinks, pouring Louis a glass of water and Johannah a glass of apple juice as per request.

It wasn’t long until the conversation came to Harry’s career.

“So, Harry. What’s going on in your singing career at the moment? Since you’re on a short hiatus, and all.” Johannah asked curiously.

He looked pleased that somebody has asked him about his career, lowering his forkful of noodles and cleared his throat. He tucked his hands under his chin, eyes bright as he began to talk. Louis couldn’t keep his eyes off Harry, even if he tried. He was glowing.

“It’s brilliant, Jo,” He confirmed. “Yeah, I’m on a short hiatus right now. My manager, Zayn, thinks I’ve been overworking myself and exerting too much force on myself. Hence the collapse…” he frowned, shaking his head. “But as soon as it’s over and I’ve refueled, I’ll be returning to tour which will last from now till November time. Then I’ll take another break, work on music, see some producers in Los Angeles and yeah… repeat the process.”

“How long’s your tour?”

“More than six months this year,” Harry announced with a smile. “It’s my first world tour, actually. Before, I was only doing Europe because I wasn’t in demand elsewhere but my newest album got.. You know, really good reviews and, yeah.”

Johannah humed. “I’ve had your latest album on repeat during cooking.”

His eyes lit up. “You have?”

“It’s wonderful. So raw, so many feelings and… From the dining table, especially.”

At that, Harry’s eyes wandered to Louis like he was expecting a comment, or something. But Louis didn’t say a thing, jaw set and eyes fixed on his food. Truthfully, he hadn’t heard a single song Harry had ever released.

He cleared his throat, smiling. “Yeah, that song. It was personal to me… I, um. It was about somebody special.”

Louis swallowed, making a mental note to avoid that song at all costs. He couldn’t bear to listen to a song about one of Harry’s girls, the girls that would broadcasted across his social media even if he never wanted to hear or see it. He didn’t want to know who Harry was in bed with.

“Oh, is it?” Johannah asked though she didn’t look at all surprised. Her eyes, too, drifted to Louis for a second.

Harry nodded to confirm. “It’s nice, you know? That I can write my feelings out and just.. Share it with the world. It’s always a surprise when people tell me they’ve heard my music, have favourites. I work on it within myself and my team for so long that I almost forget that it’s out there in the world for people.”

Johannah looked incredibly soft, a smile twitching at her lips as she swallowed around her mouthful of chicken.

“It’s beautiful work. It deserves to get listened to.”

Louis remained silent throughout the entire conversation, unable to provide anything sufficient to the conversation. He felt his heart hammering against his chest. He had never been so involved in a conversation about Harry’s career, had never heard him speak so many words about it besides the interview he used to watch in the early stages.

At the same time, his phone started buzzing in his pocket. He extracted it to reveal Luke was calling him.

“Excuse me a minute,” he smiled at everyone, getting up. Everybody’s eyes fell to him but he politely excused himself, waving his phone to them and walking out of the front door to pick up the call. “Hello?”

“Hey, babe.” Luke replied through the voice, sounding weary and worn out. “Where are you? I wanted to see you.”

He swallowed. “At Anne’s, Luke. I’m busy.”

There was a pause. “So I can’t see you tonight?”

“Probably not, no.”

“But I haven’t seen you all week.”

“I know,” Louis sighed, running a hand through his hair. His voice was quiet, hushed. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been working these insane hours and I haven’t had a chance to do much of anything, recently.”

“Yet, you have time to go to Anne’s?”

“I was invited to a dinner party, me and mum. I wasn’t going to decline.”

“You do realise you’ve _neglected_ your boyfriend all fucking week but you’re more than happy to tag along to some stupid dinner party? I see how much you love me.”

Louis clenched his jaw. It was going to be one of those conversations, apparently. He decided to reason with Luke first, no need to jump to conclusions by drawing out the negatives from the implications of his words. It never ended well and he couldn’t deal with that right now.

“Listen, I’m sorry, okay? I should’ve called you or made plans to see you, I don’t know. Even Blue misses you. I just, this is important to me and mum wanted to go. So I’m sorry but we’ll meet soon—”

“No, you won’t. Because you care about some dinner party than me!”

Louis raised his voice right back. “Don’t you dare shout at me, Luke! I have a fucking life besides you, believe it or not!”

“Really? Could’ve fucking fooled me, you prick!”

“Don’t call me—”

“You’d be _nothing_ without me and yet you can’t even spare me some time—”

“Luke.”

“Louis.”

“Stop this.”

“ _Stop this_ ,” Luke immaturely mimicked. “Are you going to sort yourself out and spare your fucking boyfriend a minute?”

Louis withdrew the phone from his ear, looking at the screen in disbelief. He knew Luke was… different than most partners, but he couldn’t comprehend what was going on. Was his boyfriend really losing his shit at him for being away at a dinner party?

“You’re an asshole.” Louis managed to say when he regained his speech, words careful.

That set Luke off. He was cursing, yelling, calling Louis names down the line. He was threatening to break up with him, the string of useless, hurtful words coming out like an endless stream. Louis tried to get a word in but failed, rendered completely speechless.

Luke hung up on him after a few minutes of straight abuse, claiming he was going to sleep and he hoped he never woke up afterwards.

Louis exhaled sharply, tears stinging his eyes. He considered calling Luke back but he was too angered right now, knew it’d only end in a bigger argument. He turned on his heel to go back inside and excuse himself from the dinner party altogether but found Harry standing by the door, looking shocked.

He immediately swallowed the lump in his throat, furiously wiping the tears that were stinging his eyes. Somehow, Luke always managed to reduce him to crying.

“What are you doing?” Louis demanded, voice unkind from the built up tension since his phone call.

“I just.. You were gone for a while then I heard shouting.. I came to check up on you,” Harry hesitated

Louis sighed, covering his face for a moment. He rubbed his eyes with the balls of his hand “I’m fine.”

“What did he say to you?” There was an edge to his voice, sounded like protectiveness. It irked Louis in the wrong way.

“It’s none of your damn business.”

They both stared at each other hard. Harry’s chest was heaving, panting but he didn’t say anything nor excuse himself. They remained standing, facing each other. Louis’ phone kept going off, insistent text messages that he assumed was Luke now apologising or carrying on his verbal abuse. Either way, nothing mattered in the moment than Harry who stood before him looking close to crying himself.

“What is it, Harry?” Louis finally sighed, couldn’t bear the sight of the watery green eyes. Even after four years, he couldn’t.

Harry shook his head instead. “Come inside, please. Finish your dinner.”

As much as Louis wanted to leave and excuse him, retreat back to his bed—he decided against it. Maybe it was a better idea if he just finished his food, willed himself to calm down. He could talk to Luke afterwards, when they were both level-headed.

Harry looked like he wasn’t done speaking, like he had questions bothering him that he needed answers to. But he didn’t say anything.

He turned on his heel, guiding them back into the house. Louis followed after him, switching off his phone entirely. He knew it’d only agitate Luke further but he couldn’t do it right now—he couldn’t play the role of the supportive, loving boyfriend when that had just happened. 

Upon entering the dining room, he got everyone’s concerned looks. Harry included.

He laughed. “I’m all good. Nothing to worry about. It was just my boyfriend, Luke.”

Nobody looked convinced but they didn’t argue either, resuming to eat.

The rest of the night followed the same. Louis zoned out for most of the conversation, too distracted by the thought of Luke. He needed to see him as soon as possible but he was working tomorrow all day and it was impossible. He tried to ease the spiraling thoughts, tried to ignore Harry’s insistent, hard stares. His eyes focused on the food before him, chewing the noodles thoughtfully and skipping the dessert.

Harry packed up the profiterole for him, though and insisted he could eat on it later.

“Thanks.” He mumbled, accepting the bag off him.

When they excused themselves for the night, thanking them for the wonderful dinner—he felt Harry’s eyes on him until he had gotten into the car and drove off.

**

[ Frank Ocean - Ivy ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dATQf-BjIS8)

 

It was another insufferable day in McDonald’s. But thankfully, he didn’t mind so much today. The day was relatively slow, he had missed lunch rush because he was helping out his manager with a delivery. When he returned, there were only a few people ordering at a time and the pace was bearable.

Niall had been in an overly bright mood, exerting his good mood onto other people. They switched up the music with the aux cord, blasting their Spotify playlists throughout the shift.

Whenever Louis took a trip back to the kitchen, he started bobbing his hips in tune to the song that was playing. Niall, often, would come out there and join him, their hips meeting in a lazy grinding dance. The other co-workers groaned at them but they were used to their antics, not complaining anymore than a few grunts.

When Louis returned to a counter, a wide smile etched on his face—he was met by Harry.

He knew Harry was back in town and yet seeing him around casually, around his workplace was a shock to Louis’ system. His smile faded almost instantly, instinctively, and he stared at Harry standing before him.

It was clear Harry was trying to blend into the background, had a hat over his head that was a weak attempt at concealing himself.

Louis swallowed, unsure what Harry’s game plan was.

“Would you like to order, or?” Louis asked as he leaned into him, raising a brow.

Harry finally responded by shaking his head, licking his bottom lip. “Have you taken your break yet?”

“No…”

“Want to take it now?”

Louis squinted, unsure what was happening right now. Why would Harry come to his workplace, only for him to request that Louis took an early break and went with him? He considered his options before looking over his shoulder, an eager Niall standing behind the counters with his brows furrowed. Right. He needed to tackle that too, letting his mates know he knew a famous pop star.

“Sure.” He finally agreed. “Wait for me around the back of the restaurant, I’ll be there.”

Louis walked back to the kitchen, to the locker rooms and felt Niall following right after him. He grabbed the key from the lanyard around his neck, unlocking his belongings and grabbing his phone, his cigarettes.

Niall leaned against the door. “Well, then You know Harry?”

Louis looked over to him. “That’s… an understatement.”

“You know a _pop star_ and you didn’t tell me?”

“We went to school today, Niall. It’s not a big deal,” he promised, downplaying the entire situation. “I’ll tell you later,” he squeezed the boy’s shoulder before walking to the back, out of the door and towards Harry who was dutifully waiting.

Louis sat down on the ledge, lighting up his cigarette. Harry decided to copy him and put his hand out for a cigarette, too. Louis handed over his own, deciding to share rather than wasting another one. Harry took a long drag, tilting his head back as he exhaled.

“It’s weird watching you smoke,” Louis admitted.

Harry looked to him, raising a brow. “Why?”

“Because… I don’t know.” He shrugged. “When we were younger, you were against it. Completely. I think you even cried when I first smoked,” Louis laughed at the memory.

He remembered it vividly. He remembered everything about Harry fondly, a fierce memory that was never to be removed from his mind. Harry used to be the most important part of his life and since, he had to learn to remove that from himself, to extract everything about Harry and put it somewhere he couldn’t reach it any longer. Mostly, he failed miserably at that.

When he had brought cigarettes for the first time and smoked, Harry had found him outside the house and he had looked genuinely upset. They argued about it—Harry had rattled off a list of GCSE Science knowledge, how smoking affects your organs, how he was stupid for even considering it. Louis had been agitated from being lectured had resulted in shutting him up by blowing the smoke right in front of his face.

It was a mistake. One he had regretted once he saw how Harry’s face crumpled, erupting into tears and yelling, curses as he had retreated to go back inside.

Louis had drawn him back, holding him close and whispering sorry’s into his skin but never to the lips.

Since Harry left from Holmes Chapel, it had become a habit that he couldn’t erase. It had been a coping mechanism and quickly, the tobacco addiction got the best of him. Now, Harry was here and he shared the same habit that he once had so strongly despised.

Harry looked distant, like he was mulling over the memory in his mind. He tapped the back end of the cigarette, the ashes falling to the ground as he stuck it into his mouth and took another long exhale.

“Things change. Life got hard so.”

“Got hard?” Louis repeated in disbelief.

What did Harry know about _hard_? He was a multimillionaire, owned mansions in three different cities. He didn’t know about hardship, about slaving away at a minimum paying job in McDonald’s and coming home to his mother’s home, because he couldn’t afford a place of his own. Harry had it _easy_ in comparison, it was an insult he had even said it.

Harry looked over to him, eyes defensive and tight. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke. His tone wasn’t as bitter as his expression looked.

“You seem to know everything about my life. Why don’t you tell me what you’ve been doing for the past four years instead, then?”

Louis let out a scoff, eyes hardening as he gestured to the building behind him.

“This. McDonald’s.”

“I refuse to believe that’s all that has happened. How long have you been working here?”

“Long. Four years, almost.”

Harry licked his lips, handing the cigarette back and resting his head against the brick wall behind him. “So, what else have you been doing? I refuse to believe your entire life has been based around one restaurant.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Yeah, I would.”

Louis sighed as he took a drag. “I don’t know. I haven’t been doing much, okay? I.. I quit the flat, put it up for sale and then I moved down here into Johannah. The flat went up for rent so I became a landlord, I still get money from that… it keeps me steady,” he sighed as he took another drag, fingers shaking over the stick. “I met Luke two years ago, too. That’s a big thing.”

“Is that it?” Harry said, almost a judgemental tone to his voice.

That rubbed Louis in the wrong way even if it hadn’t been intended that way. His head snapped to Harry.

“I apologise that we’re not all fucking famous pop stars, touring the world and shit. Some of us have a real life, a real job and we’re suffering, struggling. Not all of us are fortunate enough to just having have.. Millions of pounds!”

Harry looked tortured, eyes dark.

“You haven’t even heard my music, have you?” He asked next, completely ignoring anything Louis had just said.

Which cut Louis’ rant off short because.. He hadn’t. He really hadn’t. He hadn’t clicked on a single song over the years. Whenever his single came on the radio, he did the liberty of switching it off. Whenever his music came on the TV, he changed the channels. Whenever Harry sent the family tickets in the mail for his concerts, Louis refused to go and ripped them up.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to hear Harry’s music—he did. The curiosity ate him alive, sometimes.

What did Harry write about?

As an eighteen year old, Harry’s music was… intellectual, deep. There was something special to it. It wasn’t about music, booze, drugs and girls like most eighteen-year olds cared most about. There was depth to his lyrics, emotional and Harry used to take pride in it.

Now, as a twenty-three year old—had that changed? Had time, experience helped him grow as an artist?

Louis shook as he took another drag, his eyes falling shut and his body language betraying him.

Harry let out a soft gasp, offended. He inched back from them, putting space between them and the warmth of Harry’s body besides him disappeared.

“You haven’t, have you?” Harry asked again, pleading for the confirmation or denial. 

Louis bit his lip as he exhaled, shaking his head honestly. “No.”

“You.. not a single song, not even one?”

“No.”

“Jo has heard my music, but not you?”

“How many fucking times, Harry? No!”

Harry stood up, running a hand down the front of his jeans. “You.. how could you not?”

“I don’t know, okay?” Louis shrugged. “Am I obliged to do so? Is it written somewhere that I _have_ to? I just.. I have no interest in music, let alone yours. Okay? We’re not all like you.”

“When… before I left, do you remember what you said?”

Louis squeezed his eyes shut, the ball of his hand rubbing into them to keep the sudden need to cry overcome him. Not now, not today. Not in front of Harry, never.

“Stop.”

“Do you?” Harry pressed, crouching down besides Louis and putting both his hands on Louis’ knees. He didn’t squeeze, didn’t extend his invitation. “Do you remember, the night before? The train station? Do you remember any of it?”

The night before had been when they had both cried. Harry was leaving for London for a while, he had a new apartment there, a new team of people who were going to help him become the best of the best. Louis was letting him go so he could follow his dreams. But he remembered how distraught he had felt, how his heart had physically ached as he held Harry in his arms, legs tangled today.

Harry had kept sniffling into his neck, wet tears burning Louis’ skin. He kept muttering apologies, promises before he’d erupt into crying again.

Louis didn’t say anything. He hadn’t found the strength to do so, he was sure his voice would betray him. He kept Harry close, running a finger through his hair, teasing him, keeping the conversation light. They had fallen silent before Louis’ own tears slipped and then it became a crying fest, both of them ugly crying.

He had held Harry’s face between his hands and promised him that he’d support Harry through everything and anything. He’d turn up to every concert, every gathering, he’d promote the shit out of Harry’s music and Harry had promised to make Louis his personal assistant sometime in the future so they could remain close.

Louis kept his eyes shut when he spoke.

“I do remember.” _How could I ever forget?_

“What happened to that? What happened to supporting me when you couldn’t even spare my music a listen?”

Louis sighed, suddenly too tired for this conversation. He rubbed his eyes again and gathered his thoughts to say something, anything but before he could, his manager opened the back door.

“Tomlinson!” He ordered, snapping his fingers. “We’ve gotten an unexpected rush of people, could you come in and help, please?”

Louis clenched his jaw, taking a deep breath and nodding. “I’ll be right in.”

He stood up from where he sat, ignoring Harry’s pleading looks. He knew the boy was waiting for an answer. An answer he couldn’t give to him, didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. Louis was selfish.

“Louis—”

“I have to go, Harry.” He said simply, handing the cigarette over to Harry to finish before throwing his apron back on and wandering inside to the mess, leaving Harry outside with the unspoken words between them.

**

 

When Louis got home that night, he google searched ‘Harry Styles - From the Dining Table’. The song his mother had talked about over the dining table, the same song Harry had gushed over and had jumped to talk and explain about.

He plugged his headphones in.

The music started, guitar strings slow and Harry’s voice began in tune. The lyrics—right off the bat—were… heartbreaking.

Louis’ chest clenched tightly as he listened, squeezed his eyes shut.

_We haven’t spoken since you went away, comfortable silence is so overrated. Even my phone misses your call, by the way. Why won’t you ever be the first one to break? Why won’t you ever say what you want to say? Maybe one day you’ll call me and tell me that you’re sorry, too. But you never do._

It was some of the lyrics that had resonated with him. He could relate to the lyrics because of the heartbreak he had felt about Harry. 

Louis bit his lip, a few tears stinging his eyes. He wasn’t sure if the song was about him or not, he sincerely doubted it. Harry had loved him, it had always been the other way around with Louis having the silly, high school crush on Harry and Harry mostly oblivious. But… but this song wasn’t about love, it was about missing somebody. Wanting someone and missing somebody and not being able to have them.

Which was Louis about Harry, all over.

Even if Harry hadn’t written it about Louis… it was definitely how Louis felt. 

Before he could dwell on the lyrics any longer and found pathetic links to himself within the lyrics, he clicked out of the song and promised not to explore Harry’s music any longer. He’d be gone in a month’s and Louis could go back to pretending Harry didn’t matter.

**

Luke came over for tea the next morning. They hadn’t talked much since the argument a few nights ago at the dinner party but he looked genuinely apologetic, one hand full of flowers, the other with a box of chocolate and a sheepish smile painted over his lips.

Louis knew how this worked. It played out the same way every single time: Luke apologised, Louis took him back, they had a few days of absolute bliss and then it went back to how it was. Fighting, arguing and yelling at each other endlessly. Then they’d repeat the entire process over.

Johannah retrieved the door, stood before Luke with an unimpressed look painted over her expression, arms crossed. Louis had never voiced the dynamic of their relationship to Johannah but he never had to, his mother had almost picked up on intuitively. 

“Hello, Luke.” She said coldly.

Luke, however, didn’t seem to notice or he just didn’t mind. He didn’t really care much for Louis’ family, had never been nervous about meeting them or worried about their approval.

“Hello, Jo. How are you?”

“I’m great, thanks and you?”

“Superb. Wanted to see Louis.”

Johannah hummed, tilting her head to the side suspiciously. She simply excused herself, informing him that she’d be in the kitchen if Louis needed him.

As soon as they were alone, Luke embraced him. It was a tight hug that squeezed the life out of Louis, shaking him to reality. Luke was his boyfriend. 

“I’m so sorry…” He mumbled into Louis’ skin, kissing over his neck. He pulled back, holding Louis’ face in his hands. “So, so sorry. I didn’t mean it. You know I didn’t, babe. You’re.. Not a prick, or a coward. Jesus, I’m so sorry. I feel so embarrassed.”

As oddly satisfying as it would’ve been to watch Luke grovel for a while, Louis didn’t want that. He had long forgiven Luke, mind occupied elsewhere. He tugged Luke forward for a kiss, their lips meeting and tongues colliding, falling back into a routine that was familiar. Luke moaned into the kiss, fingers tangling in Louis’ hair.

They were interrupted by a bark, however.

Blue had found his way to the door, jumping up Luke’s leg and demanding his attention. Luke gasped, momentarily forgetting about Louis to pick up their dog. He snuggled Blue to his chest who preened under the attention, petting him lovingly and whispering sweet nothings into his ear that Blue didn’t understand a single word of.

“Told you he missed you,” Louis shrugged, the left side of his mouth tugging up in some sort of half smile.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in the same manner. It was almost easy with Luke, almost. They had a routine that made sense on most days. They’d spend their days together, whenever they could, and they’d laze around like a real family. With Blue cuddled up next to them, with the TV playing and the conversation flowing easily.

They had met at a party. It had been Liam’s birthday party and he had invited his workmates, who extended their invitations to plus ones. Luke had been a plus one of Liam’s co-worker, he had everyone’s attention with his charisma and striking good looks but it seemed like Luke only had eyes on Louis. Perhaps that was how they had ended up in the bathroom of a dingy club, rutting against each other like they were deep in heat, desperate. Perhaps that was how they ended up in each other’s arms every morning after one-night stands until it was no longer one-night stands.

Luke was gorgeous. He was talented. He was hardworking and relentless in his pursuit to please Louis. He wasn’t Harry but he was a good substitute and that was all that Louis had needed for him to seal the deal. At the time, anyway. Over the two years they had dated, their magic had faded and instead, was replaced by arguments.

Around lunch time, Johannah wandered back into the kitchen to prepare lunch for the girls and the two of them.

Louis was tangled up with Luke on the sofa, his head resting on Luke’s chest as he listened to the boy’s chest heaving up and down, focused on his heartbeat beating slowly.

“Do you think—” Luke had started to say but cut off by the doorbell.

Louis got up to retrieve it but Johannah beat him to it. He sighed in content, happy he didn’t have to get up from his comfortable position, snuggling back into his boyfriend. He focused on the TV before him, watching the rerun of their favourite movie that they always liked to watch after they had an argument.

But he was drawn out of his paradise when he heard Harry’s gruff voice.

“Hi, Jo. Sorry for the last minute arrival, I just need to talk—”

He had wandered into the living room as he had spoken, faced by Louis and Luke all pressed up against each other. All the words in Harry’s mouth died instantly, his mouth hanging over and his eyes hardening as he looked over to Luke.

Luke, unaware, also looked shocked.

“Harry? Harry Styles, the singer?” Luke asked, in disbelief. His eyes darted between Louis and Johannah, waiting for some kind of explanation.

Louis cleared his throat, his heart beating dangerously in his chest as he extracted himself from Luke and sat up straight. His eyes fixed on Harry, pleading through his expression not to give anything away. He hadn’t told Luke anything about knowing Harry.

Harry snapped into action, a perfect, polite smile taking over his lips. He cut the distance in the room, putting his hand out for a shake to Luke. Luke took it, firmly squeezing it.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Harry grinned. “You are?”

“Luke. Luke Lennox, Louis’ boyfriend.”

His eyes remained dull but his facial expression suited to everything Luke was saying. “Ah,” he nodded, eyes wandering to Louis. “Sorry. I’m an old family friend of Johannah, I was just stopping by to say hi. But um. You both look busy so I’ll just.. Excuse myself.”

“Harry—” Louis started to say.

Johannah watched the entire scene unfold from the doorway, not moving or offering any words.

Harry shook his head, holding a hand up.

“I’ll come another time, I’ll text Johannah beforehand, even. I do apologise.”

“ _Harry_ , you can stay.” He insisted.

But Harry was already turning on his heel, waving a goodbye to Johannah and slipping right out of the door before even sparing anybody a goodbye. Luke watched him go, kissing his teeth when Harry’s presence was gone.

“What a weirdo.” He commented.

Johannah’s eyes turned to steel. “Luke, honey. I won’t tolerate any slander about Harry. He is much like my son, I watched him grow up and raised him as much as his mother did. So, please. Excuse the words.”

Luke held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, Jo,” but he didn’t sound sincere at all. 

Johannah didn’t seem to have the patience for it. She simply huffed in exasperation, giving Louis a pointed look before turning on her heel and wandering back into the kitchen to finish preparing lunch.

Louis was lost in deep thought and for the remainder of their encounter, he didn’t snuggle up to Luke. At the end of the night, he led Luke out, complaining he had work and Luke couldn’t stay over. Luke didn’t seem to mind, didn’t even notice anything was off. When he was out of the house, Louis could finally breathe.

**

“Louis! What brings you here?” Anne greeted when she opened the door, a welcoming smile painted over her lips.

Louis pulled her into an embrace, patting her back once before pulling away and nodding inside.

“Sorry for coming unannounced, Anne. I needed to talk Harry, if he’s in?”

She pursued her lips as she looked over her shoulder. “He is..” she sounded unsure.

“Ah. If he’s busy, I’ll just—”

However before he could finish his sentence, Harry wandered to the front door. He was wearing his pyjamas, if he considered the baggy red flowery shirt and black shorts nightwear, and he had sunglasses over his eyes in doors. Typical. 

Louis raised a brow. “Sunglasses, really?”

He let out a laugh, pulling them off his eyes and tangling them in his curls.

“It’s warm out in the garden, Louis,” he explained himself easily. He looked over to Anne who nodded. Anne smiled at Louis, explaining she’d be in the kitchen if anybody needed her before dismissing herself. Finally, it was just the two of them. “Are you okay? Did you need me for anything?”

Louis shrugged. “Yeah. I came to see you after yesterday.. Um, we didn’t get the chance to talk.”

Harry nodded, looking thoughtful as he extended the door. “Come in. I’m just with my manager in the garden. You can join us. He’ll be going soon.”

“Oh.. it’s not a worry, I’ll—”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Please, join.”

Louis knew he should politely decline but he couldn’t deny Harry’s soft, pleading expression anything. He sighed.

“Well, since you ask so nicely.”

Louis walked inside and into the garden where the doors were wide open. It was quite warm today: well into the mid twenties and whilst that wasn’t necessarily a high temperature, they hardly got any sun in England. It was always a treat whenever they did.

“This must be mundane to you now that you’ve adjusted to Los Angeles weather,” Louis joked.

Harry pulled the sunglasses back on over his eyes, laughing abruptly. There was no awkwardness between them at the mention of his ‘other’ life and Louis appreciated that, liked the change.

“I appreciate any sun I’ll get,” Harry shrugged.

The garden was vast, stretching on with greenery surrounding it. There were trees, bushes and the flowers Anne always took pride in. In the middle of the garden, there was a table set up with many chairs, on the side there was a hammock. There was also a swing set though there was no toddlers in the family. Louis and Harry had since grown up but nobody seemed to have the heart to take it down.

The man that Louis recognised from their first encounter at McDonald’s, when Harry had pretended he didn’t know Harry, was sitting on the chair. His legs were stretched over the table, arms crossed over his chest, one ear with headphones in and sunglasses pulled over his eyes, too. There was something edgy cool about him, screaming pretentious hipster.

Louis cleared his throat, standing before them awkwardly.

Harry nudged the man who jumped, startled and pushed the sunglasses off him. His face scrunched up in confusion when he looked at Louis, eyes wandering to Harry and then… shifting to another emotion. An unreadable emotion. Louis swallowed, unsure what was going on.

“Zayn, this is Louis. My childhood friend. Louis, this is Zayn—my manager,” Harry introduced, throwing himself down onto the chair and grabbing the sheets of paper and a pen, resuming to his work.

Louis looked at Zayn with a sheepish smile.

“Hey..”

Zayn, however, didn’t seem to do awkward introductions.

“Hey, man!” He greeted, like they were long lost best friends. He got off the seat he was sitting on, shaking Louis’ hand. “Harry told me a bit about you after.. Um, our last encounter,” he smiled, gesturing to his seat. “Sit, sit.”

Louis tried not to flush as he nodded, taking a seat.

“Harry… has not told me anything about you.” He confirmed. Not like he’d get a chance to have a conversation with Harry about his manager, anyway. 

Harry didn’t even look up from the sheets of paper he was scribbling on, head down and focused. But he seemed to be listening on to the conversation if the shift of his features were any indicator.

Zayn was staring at Harry work before his eyes drifted to Louis again, shrugging.

“Sorry. We’re working on some lyrics right now and once he gets into his work… he really gets into it,” Zayn explained, gesturing to him but continued to the conversation before. “I’m not surprised he hasn’t told you much. He likes to keep me a secret,” he laughed. “I started working with him about two years ago, his old manager was… _terrible_ , you may remember if you used to follow the news, and what not?”

Louis swallowed. He didn’t know a single thing. 

At that, Harry’s head drifted up. He cocked his head, raising a brow skeptically at Louis like he was waiting for an answer even though they both knew what it was. Louis swallowed, nodding and indulging Zayn, anyway.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Unaware, Zayn continued. “He was awful, Simon was. Overworked Harry to… uh, I can’t even talk about it without getting worked up. Anyway, we bumped into each other at some cafe in Los Angeles. We hit it off and a year or some later, Harry was offering me the job of being his manager. I had.. Virtually no experience, but Harry helped me find the ropes and through me, we made his tour happen. It’s amazing, really. Dedicated worker, Harry is.”

Louis swallowed again, loudly. It was disheartening to realise how little he knew about Harry’s life and whilst he had spent the past four years blaming him for it, he realised he, himself, played a huge part to it. He refused to know about Harry, refused to follow his career and find out the details.

He had no idea who Simon was, who Zayn was… who anybody he worked with was. Harry must have an abundance of people around him, an entire team that took care of him and Louis was oblivious to every single one of them.

“I’m… um, glad he found you, then.” Louis finally settled on saying.

Harry’s eyes looked up again. His hand halted over the paper he was working on, eyes almost soft.

Zayn remained clueless.

“I’m glad, too. He really changed my life. Became my best friend.”

“What are you guys working on?” Louis decided to ask instead because he couldn’t listen to any of it anymore without feeling a wave of guilt with every word

“Oh!” Zayn’s eyes lit up, gesturing to the stack of papers before them and a MacBook. “Well… I’m currently working on rescheduling Harry’s current tour dates and ensuring everybody who had bought tickets will be able to attend other nights. It’ll be reusable for the other nights and what not. Harry’s working on lyrics for the next album. We said we’d take a break but.. He has sudden inspiration, apparently.”

Louis exhaled, nodding.

“When does Harry go back on tour?” He asked, next.

“Well… ideally, it was supposed to be two to three weeks time but since Harry’s been here, he doesn’t seem to want to leave,” he gestured to Harry who looked completely content, in his zone. “I can’t deny him a thing. Simon didn’t let Harry have a say, you know? And I don’t want to be that person, so I think.. A month and some.”

Louis only had a few weeks left with Harry’s presence around and whilst he had been aware of that, it was still a pang to his chest when it had been confirmed. He really didn’t want to become accustomed to Harry’s presence.

“Right.”

He and Zayn talked for a while, vibing well together whilst Harry worked over his writing. They even shared a few jokes together and then dwelled into their private lives a little. Zayn opened up easily. He was from Bradford, which wasn’t too far from Holmes Chapel hence why he had been home to visit his mother and sisters and only returned today. He had moved to Los Angeles for his ex girlfriend and decided to stay there since the breakup, enjoying the sunshine and the food and the lifestyle. He wasn’t currently dating and he was, now, bi-curious.

For somebody he had just met, Zayn was awfully comfortable and sure of him. He reeked of confidence and Louis wasn’t surprised that Zayn was the type of people Harry attracted and kept as company.

Somewhere among the hours that passed steadily, Anne approached the boys with some lunch. They both nibbled on the pizza and garlic bread, still readily discussing each other’s lives.

Zayn got out his laptop and showed how he managed Harry. They looked through social media for fan’s responses to the tour news live as they came through. 

Then, Harry wandered off, excusing himself for a toilet break and returning with a small box.  
He retrieved two blunts from inside, passing one over to Zayn and one to Louis.

“You smoke weed?” Louis deadpanned.

He shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You gonna to take one or not?”

“Uh… yeah, sure. I mean, why not?”

Harry lit one up for Louis, taking a drag of it himself before handing it over. Louis didn’t smoke weed much. Every now and then, Luke would purchase some off his dealers and they’d share but he had never gone seeking the drug himself. Now, he pondered why he didn’t because the feeling was better and different than the immediate relief after a cigarette.

When dusk falls upon them, they were still seated outside with not a hint of awkwardness between them. Amongst the three of them, they got along like they had been friends forever and Louis was grateful towards Zayn for that.

Zayn stretched his legs, yawning behind his fists as he shut his laptop.

“Enough work for me today. I’m going to excuse myself for bed. I’ll see you around, Louis,” he said. He walked over to Harry, kissing his forehead before wandering back into the house leaving the two of them alone for the first time today.

The sudden shift in the atmosphere was too painfully obvious to ignore.

“He’s a great guy.” Louis commented.

Harry nodded, stretching his arms above his head. “The best. I love him.”

“I can see why. You ever going to replace him?”

“Hopefully, it won’t come to that.”

As much as Louis wanted to ask about Simon, he resisted the urge. Instead, he bit his tongue and glanced around the garden.

“I wanted to apologise.. For that conversation outside work.”

Harry’s expression shifted to something unreadable, shrugging. He got off the chair, collecting his papers.

“You don’t have to sorry, Louis. It’s dusted, forgiven and forgotten,” he easily dismissed the subject. “Do you want to stay the night?”

He cleared his throat, shaking his head.

“I… uh, no. Luke’s expecting me tonight.”

Harry’s expression darkened, nodding. “I’ll walk you out.”

Louis walked back inside of the house where he bid his farewell to Anne, who was snuggled up on the sofa with her fingers curled around a cup of tea. She tried to get him to stay but Louis insisted he had to leave. At the door, he said goodbye to Harry.

When he walked towards Luke’s, he felt like he was leaving a part of himself back to Anne’s.

**

[ Arctic Monkeys - Snap Out Of It](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1_O_T6Aq85E)

The night at Luke’s was mundane. He wanted to have sex, Louis didn’t want to. They ended up having sex, anyway even though Louis wasn’t in the mood. He still made exaggerated moans, prompting Luke to go harder to boost his boyfriend’s ego but his heart wasn’t in.

They both came together with a heavy pant, rolling onto each other. Luke fell asleep, Louis couldn’t.

His mind was wandering thousand miles per hour as he slipped out of bed, careful not to wake up his boyfriend. Luke didn’t like tea and therefore, he only kept a few selective Yorkshire teabags around for Louis. However, they had ran out and he was forced to choose ground coffee.

Wincing, he made himself a cup of coffee—a drink he normally avoided like the plague—and took his warm cup outside onto the balcony.

His favourite part of Luke’s apartment was definitely the balcony. It overlooked the entire village, stretching onto the nearby towns. Life looked so small up from the balcony. But Louis’ favourite part was the stars. The sky was always clear from the balcony and they could always make out the shining stars in the sky, a sight Louis held close to his heart.

He sat on the chair, cradling his cup of coffee and admiring his view as he took tentative sips.

Louis extracted his phone from his pocket after a few minutes of just complete silence, plugging his headphones in and pulling out his saved voice notes. It was a recording of himself, three minutes long, that he never liked to listen to. But today, he was in the mood to torture himself. Louis started it up, holding his breath as his own voice started to speak.

_“Harry… I.. I know you’re happy. It’s been two and half years since you’ve been gone, chasing your dreams. You never come home anymore, darling. You… you_ promised _you would. You promised you’d come back for me everyday, over and over. You broke that fucking promise. I’m.. I’m at a boy’s house that I’ve been seeing: Luke, on the balcony. We’ve just fucked and yet, I’m here. Crying. About you. Because… Jesus Christ, Harry. You’re my best friend and more, always more and I never expected it to be like that. When I told you to go and be yourself, follow your dreams—I never thought that meant I’d lose you. I walk around the village and I see you everywhere, at the local coffee shop though we both hate coffee, at the bookstore you spent hours in and I’d complain. I… I’d go back there, if I could now and I’d never fucking complain again. I have a dog, now. Blueberry, Blue for short and I always imagine you’d be good with him. He’s a golden lab and he’s a babe. I love him. Why did you leave me, cut me out so easily? I fucking miss you so much—_

_I’m sorry. I’m a mess, it’s like 5am and I’ve been losing a lot of sleep over you. I hope you’re well, wherever you are. London, Los Angeles? Might even be fucking Australia, who knows?_ Fuck _you, Harry. You broke my heart. I’m_ in _fucking love with you, you twat. How did you never figure that out? Fuck this.”_

The voice note came to an end.

When he pulled his headphones out with tears stinging his eyes, Luke was standing by the balcony door with his own cup of coffee. He tilted his head, observing Louis with a small curl downwards of his lips.

“Babe, you okay?”

Louis exhaled shakingly, putting his coffee down.

“C’mere.” He said instead.

Luke prompted Louis to stand up, sitting down and pulling him into his lap. Together, with cups of coffee, they admired the night sky with Luke holding Louis closer.

Yet. All he could think about was Harry.


	2. Chapter Two

[ LANY - yea, babe, no way](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pVUq8Q7bNUM)

 

“Dude… check out this news about Styles.”

Louis’ head snapped up. He froze mid serving a customer their chicken burger meal at the mere mention of Harry’s name. The man who was waiting for his order raised a brow, gently prying it out of Louis’ fingers and wandering off, muttering under his breath. Louis exhaled sharply, twisting his torso slightly to catch news about what the coworkers were talking about.

Harry Styles was often discussed amongst the village. He was the star, the man who dared to make it out and managed to do so. The men were jealous of him, the women were envious and the children aspired to be him.

“What is it?”

“Daily Mail says he fucked some girl and got her pregnant, y’know,” the man continued to discuss around the McDonald’s kitchen, letting out a cheer. “My man!”

Louis gritted his teeth. The words replayed in slow motion in his mind. _Harry got some girl pregnant._ He didn’t seem like the type of person who was irresponsible enough to fuck somebody without protection, didn’t seem like the type of person who’d be involved in such a controversy.

But then again—what did Louis know about Harry anymore? They had been apart for four entire years. Harry could’ve very well changed completely during that time. 

“Um, excuse me?” 

Louis turned back around to the counter to face a man standing there, waiting to be served. He plastered a smile over his face, it ached his jaw as he took the order and handed his change over. He started preparing the McFlurry order but he couldn’t stop replaying the co-worker’s words in his mind.

Once he was done, he walked up to his manager. “Taking my break,” as he threw the apron off his body and walked into the locker room.

Louis grabbed his phone and his cigarettes, standing outside the back. A part of him wanted to call Harry, just to get an actual confirmation from the man himself but it’d undeniably hurt him to hear the words from Harry. It’d hurt if Harry confessed that he had, indeed, gotten a girl pregnant. Louis stared at his blank phone before sighing, stuffing it into his pocket.

For the half hour break Louis had, he chained smoked his pack of cigarettes. His nicotine stained, nimble fingers were shaking every time he took an exhale. He tried to focus his mind elsewhere, will his thoughts somewhere better. But every time he thought of Luke, it felt even worst.

Later that day, when Louis finished his shift—he was surprised to find Harry standing outside, leaning against his Range Rover.

Louis inhaled a breath, trying to gain a control over his thoughts that were spiralling thousand miles per hour. He wasn’t sure what Harry was doing here but he wasn’t sure if he was up for a conversation, either. He immediately picked out a cigarette, focused on turning the other direction and walk away.

“Louis, wait!” Harry called out to him, beginning to walk towards him. “Please, can we talk?”

Louis cupped his mouth as he lit up the cigarette, turning back around to Harry. His dull eyes bored into Harry’s.

“What do you want, Harry?”

It was supposed to be a thrill to see Harry after work, a reminder that he was _here_ rather than Los Angeles, than touring the world. That he was here, present with Louis and nothing else was supposed to matter besides that.

But right now, seeing Harry felt like a dull thud in his chest. A feeling he didn’t want to dwell on, a feeling he hadn’t been able to find refuge from since four years. Overtime, it had become quieter but now, it was loud and present.

Harry’s expression deflated a little, shrugging a little.

“Did you hear the news? The pregnancy scandal?”

Louis bit his lip, taking an exhale. “Yeah. People were talking about it at work.”

“It’s not true, Louis.”

Relief spread through Louis like a wildfire, deflating all the high of his thoughts. It wasn’t supposed to feel that way. He wasn’t supposed to care whether or not Harry had gotten a girl pregnant, whether or not he was going to be a father—but he couldn’t deny how serene he felt with a denial, finally able to breathe properly.

Louis nodded a little, shifting his weight on his feet.

“Then, why would they publish something like that? Isn’t that illegal?”

Harry nodded slowly. He gestured to his fancy car. “Just, come sit with me and we’ll talk about it?”

Louis wanted to decline the offer. He wanted to go home and cuddle into Luke, with Blueberry and he wanted to pretend the ghost of Harry was reappearing back into his life. But he saw Harry’s eager, hopeful eyes and he could never deny a thing to Harry. He sighed, putting out his cigarette and nodding.

“Okay.”

The car was a fancy, expensive black Range Rover. It had always been Harry’s dream car for as long as Louis could remember, they had always talked about it and now, he finally owned it. It felt expensive too as Louis slid into the passenger seat, the seats leather, the stereo system state of the art. Wide and spacious and gorgeous.

Louis wolf whistled as he buckled up his seatbelt, glancing around.

“S’fancy, int it?” Louis offered uselessly.

Harry shrugged a little, the side of his mouth twitching into a smile as he started up his car and started peeling out of the McDonald’s car park.

“I guess so.”

They sat in silence for a moment as Harry tried to navigate out of the parking space, back onto the road. It was eerily quiet for 7pm, the roads mostly empty as Harry rolled the windows and stuck his hand out of it. 

“So… why was that pregnancy scandal published, then?” Louis found himself asking when the silence extended for too long.

Harry’s eyes hardened slightly at the news, letting out a little sigh. He kept his eyes fixed on the road as he drove, not offering anything before he finally turned back around to look at Louis.

“I don’t know, really. I met this girl once at an event and we had a few drinks, fucked around but she took that and ran a mile with the story.”

“So there _could_ be a possibility that she’s pregnant?”

“Nah. We never actually got that far.”

Louis bit his lip as he nodded, desperate for another cigarette just to get through the conversation. It wasn’t easy to swallow down the thought of Harry at parties, fucking around with girls and picking up anyone he wanted. 

“What can you do it about it, though?”

“Not much,” Harry confessed, craning his neck around to observe the road before turning. He drove smoothly, not a single bump in his driving. “Zayn and I are deciding the best way to deny the rumour and hopefully, with time, it’ll just die down.”

“Why would someone do something like that?” He voiced his thoughts out loud.

Harry let out an abrupt laugh but it was humourless, hard around the edges. He offered a helpless shrug as he came to a stop at a traffic light.

“It’s beyond me. Five minutes of fame, attention. Who knows.”

“That’s fucking pathetic.”

Harry laughed again, nodding. “Yeah, pathetic is a good way of describing it.”

“Does it happen a lot to you?”

“Um…” Harry pondered on the question for a second, genuinely concentrating before he shook his head slowly. “Not really? Some girls I come across can be after the fame and attention but it’s easy to spot that out early on. I’ve learnt my lesson. Do you not remember my ex girlfriend’s cheating rumours?”

Louis flushed as he shook his head slowly, running a hand through his unkempt hair.

“No.”

He hadn’t even been aware that Harry had dated girls let alone that scandals had taken place. Whenever Louis heard people talking, he tuned out. Whenever it came on the tv, on the news on his phone, he clicked elsehwere. He didn’t like to torture himself and he liked to remain painfully ignorant to everything happening in Harry’s life. 

Harry furrowed his brows but began to fill in details for him.

“I dated a girl named Rosanna when I first got to Los Angeles. It was publicised and it was hard to deal with it so we had to break it off. But she was bitter and she made false claims to every tabloid that I had cheated on her, that I was an abusive boyfriend. It was bad.”

“Wow…” Louis mumbled. He wasn’t sure how he’d deal with that. The whole world thinking something about you that’s not true, making existing judgements on you before they could ever meet you. It sounded like hell. “Did you date other girls after her?”

“Nah,” Harry chuckled. “I decided to just focus on my career instead.”

It was enough answer that Harry wasn’t currently seeing somebody and that was enough for Louis. He shouldn’t need that confirmation but he did, he hated how he relaxed a little upon hearing it. He hated how his feelings were being dragged up so easily just by Harry’s presence appearing back around again.

“I’m sorry. That sounds rough.”

“It’s okay,” he shrugged. “I love my job and I love what I do. I can deal with a few sacrifices here and there.”

Louis exhaled, nodding his head but not having anything else to supply to the conversation. He was drained from his shift and he needed to process all the new information he had been given about Harry. 

It was wrong of him but he was curious about Harry, about his career and being in the limelight for four years. If that was just one of the scandals that had been published about Harry, Louis wondered what else there was. What else had happened that he had absolutely no idea about, had remained blissfully unaware about.

A part of him wanted to research and find out, another part of him was wise enough not to give into it.

When Harry pulled up outside Johannah’s house, he cut off the engine and looked over.

“This is you.”

Louis hummed, looking over to his house. 

“Do you want to come in?” He offered hesitantly. It felt like the right thing to say and after their conversation, and what had happened earlier today, it wouldn’t be a surprise if Harry needed company.

Even if things were still uncertain and awkward between them, they used to be friends and Louis wanted to rekindle a part of that. He wanted to keep Harry safe. 

Harry looked honoured to be asked but he declined politely, shaking his head.

“As much as I’d like that, I have to get back to Zayn and figure out what we’re going to do. A long night ahead of me. Thank you, though. It means a lot.”

Louis shrugged. “S’not a big deal. Let me know how it goes.”

Harry looked giddy with happiness. He nodded.

“Of course.”

**

_Four years ago…_

 

The station was packed on a Tuesday morning at 8:30am but nobody expected any better. Louis was sitting with Harry at Costa Coffee. Both of them had a latte and a panini but neither of them had the heart to eat it. Louis picked apart his food, flicking the tuna inside of the bread but not putting it into his mouth.

He felt exhausted, fatigued. The crying from last night had drained every part of him.

Now, he was defeated. In merely twenty minutes, he’d say goodbye to the love of his life as he sent him away to go and chase his dreams. He wanted to be supportive and he was but.. It wasn’t enough. He wanted Harry to stay with him forever.

Harry sighed as he drained the last sip of his latte, pushing the cup away from it.

“Should we make our way to the platform?”

Louis hummed, looking up to the train arrival times. Surely enough, the train leaving to London had already arrived on platform and was ready to set off in a while. But Louis didn’t have the heart to get up and wander away from the sanctuary in the coffee shop.

“I can’t come onto the platform with you, Harry.”

“I know… I mean, outside.”

Louis sighed, nodding. “Sure.”

After five more minutes, they finally decided to make their way to the platform. Louis ditched both his food and his coffee, no appetite for either. Harry was holding on tightly to his luggage: his suitcases, duffel bag over his shoulder. It was hitting Louis all over again, like a truck slamming into him repeatedly, that he was about to say goodbye to his best friend. Harry was never going to live in Holmes Chapel, again.

The train stood before them, people steadily getting inside.

Harry looked anxious, now. There was hints of apprehension over his face and if Louis was a selfish man, he’d take those signs to advantage. He’d plead and beg Harry to stay, manipulate him into forgetting all about his dreams and focusing on him instead.

But he was selfless and in love with Harry.

“Hey,” he tapped on Harry’s shoulders.

Harry turned around, raising a brow and attempting to muster a smile over his features that were trembling.

“Yeah?”

“You’re going to be a star, you know?” Louis asked, raising a brow as if he was asking a genuine question. Above him, there was a billboard of an actor. “One day, that’s going to be your face in Holmes Chapel station billboard. One day, I’m going to put the radio on and your voice is going to sing back to me. One day, you’re going to return here and there’ll be a line of girls waiting for you, screaming your name. _You_. Harry… you’re destined for this and you have to get the fuck on that train and go.”

Harry’s eyes were stinging with a fresh wave of tears, eyes soft as they searched into Louis’. He swallowed loudly, wiping under his cheekbones. He took a step forward, reaching out for Louis’ touch.

“You really mean that?”

“Babe…” Louis laughed. He cut the distance between them, putting a hand on Harry’s cheek and watched the younger boy lean into it. “I’ve never meant anything else as serious as I do with this. You were born for this. You even have a damn superstar name—Harry Styles. You were made for this.”

A tear slipped out of Harry’s eyes, cascading down his face. Louis cooed, shaking his head. He reached out, catching it with his thumb. The moment was intimate—much more than usual. They were no strangers to physical contact, constantly cuddling up to each other, wrapped up in each other’s embrace. But they had never done anything more. They had kissed once before, a drunken mistake but that was it.

Right now, though—it was different and it was causing Louis’ heart to beat erratically against his chest, threatening to jump right out.

Harry seemed to feel the same way, if his chest heaving was any indicator. He grabbed Louis’ hand, pressing a feather soft kiss to the back of his hand.

“Thank you.”

“Are you going to get on that train or do I have to personally drag you?”

Harry chuckled, tears falling steadily. “I’m going.”

“Promise me.”

“What?”

“That you’ll come back for me. That you won’t ever forget me.”

Harry squinted, looking offended that it was even being discussed. He held Louis’ hands against his chest, looking at him seriously.

“I swear to you. I promise—I’ll come back for you. I’ll never forget you. I’ll always be yours to call home, Louis. I’ll come right back for you.”

That was all the reassurance Louis needed. He squeezed Harry’s hands and then withdrew himself, waving Harry off in the direction of his train. Harry didn’t go immediately, though. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Louis and pulled him close. They embraced for a while, arms tight against each other’s bodies as they swayed side-to-side.

Then Harry withdrew himself and walked towards the platform, swiping his train ticket down and entering the barriers.

He looked over his shoulders to give Louis a lopsided, wobbly smile and a half-hearted wave before getting onto the train.

Louis exhaled as he watched the boy leave, the love of his life. When the train started to move, the first of his tears that lasted a week fell.

 

**

 

Later that night, Niall linked him to a Tweet.

Louis wasn’t sure what he was expecting, furrowing his brows a little as he clicked on the link. It loaded up in his app.

It was pretty straight forward. It was Harry’s tweet, judging by his name and the verification tick next to it. The icon was of Harry in Los Angeles, presumably, at the beach shirtless, doing a peace sign.

The tweet read:

_Harry_Styles: She says I am the one, but the kid is not my son._

Louis’ mouth twitched into a smile, that transformed into a grin. He wasn’t able to hide his obvious giddiness, putting his phone down and burying his face into the pillow to attempt to wipe the sheepish look off his face.

**

[ Fink - Looking Too Closely](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qoWRs7lXtYE)

 

Louis, sometimes, took Blue on a morning run in the local park when he had the evening shift. Blue was an active dog and he was growing more and more everyday, it also gave Louis the perfect excuse to get some cardio into his routine. The two of them were up at the crack of dawn, slowly jogging through the park.

It was always like catching a whiff of fresh air whenever Louis came here. He could finally breathe again.

Blue ran a few steps ahead of him though he was still on a leash. He had enough free movement to run freely and took complete advantage of it.

Louis looked down at his dog, smiling fondly. Lorde’s voice sang softly to him through his ears as he kept his chin up, looking ahead and attempted to complete the last mile of his run before he could retreat back to his house. 

Something broke his train of concentration though. He felt a small tap on his shoulder and he drew out of his mind, startled. He had heard enough horror stories about this exact moment -- people preying on runners in the early morning in the parks, their bodies going missing right afterwards.

“Fuck!” Louis yelled, his fists clenched and raised, ready to strike. 

It was only Harry, though. He looked petrified at Louis’ stance, holding his hands up in surrender and yelping. 

“It’s only me!”

Louis’ fight response deflated as he exhaled sharply, ignoring how fast his heart had started beating. He tore his earphones out, narrowing his eyes carefully at the boy. 

“What the fuck. You fucking scared me, you ass.”

Harry, now that he was sure he wasn’t going to get punched, relaxed. He chuckled, his bright green eyes scanning over the park before focusing back on Louis. 

“M’sorry,” he mumbled, not sounding sorry at all. He crouched down next to Blue, reaching over to pet him. Blue seemed to recognise him before he jumped on Harry, licking his face. “Hello, gorgeous boy. Your dad’s evil, huh? Getting you up this early?”

Louis let out a gasped laugh, shaking his head. He couldn’t deny how fond it felt to admire the view of his dog and Harry together. Blue had taken a liking to Harry and it wasn’t surprising to him, at all. 

“Hey,” Louis drawled. “Don’t pit my dog against me.”

Harry was grinning when he stood up, resuming his position from before. He reached out, hands flat.

“Can I hold the leash?”

Louis handed it over. “Sure.”

Harry looked grateful as he took it, circling it around his hands a few times to secure. He adjusted his headband on his head, beginning to jog again. Blue immediately followed, running ahead a few steps. Louis started to follow suit, keeping up with Harry’s slow pace. It felt more like a cool down than the actual run. Louis was okay with that.

“It’s barely 6am. Whatcha doing here, Louis?” Harry finally started the conversation, glancing in his direction with a meek smile.

“I come here whenever I have the morning shift off. What’re you doing here?”

“Morning runs are my new thing,” Harry said very matter-of-factly. “I go for a jog every morning by the beach, it’s lovely.”

Louis smiled at him. “That sounds pleasant.”

“It is. You should visit L.A. sometimes.”

He scoffed a little, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah. Let me just book myself a flight to LA with my incredible paying job.”

Louis hadn’t meant to sound so bitter but the tone left his mouth before he could even stop it, wincing at his own voice. Harry must’ve noticed because he furrowed his brows for a minute.

“Well… I have a proposition for you, actually.”

“Huh?” Louis raised a brow, having not expecting that at all. “What?”

Harry looked almost nervous now, pale skinned. He came to a halt from running, pausing under the tree for shade as he panted a little. He tugged on Blue’s leash a little to bring him back to them.

“I have to go away for a few days.”

Dread crossed Louis immediately, disappointment swelling in the pits of his stomach. He knew Harry would have to give up this little facade and return to his life, his new home eventually but he hadn’t imagined it’d be so quickly. He was sure his expression had dropped.

“Oh.” Louis deadpanned.

Harry filled in for him immediately, though.

“Not back to L.A. or touring. I’m not planning to leave Holmes Chapel yet. But I have a few interviews in London and I wanted you to come with me.”

Louis took a moment to process the words, raising a brow skeptically at Harry. He had never been to London, had never even considered the possibility of travelling there and visiting. Mostly because he couldn’t afford the pricey tickets and the expense of actually staying there, roaming the capital.

“Me?” He repeated to affirm.

Harry nodded slowly. “Yeah, you.”

“Um.. why me?”

“Why not you?” Harry asked, voice a touch defensive. “You mean a lot to me and whether or not that’s been ruined, I still care for you. I know you work your ass off day and night in that tiny McDonald’s and you deserve time away from there. I’m also trying to make amends here.”

Louis laughed. “You think amends means spending a shit ton of money on me and taking me on a getaway weekend?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed like slits but his tone remained neutral, patient.

“No, ‘course not. But it’s a start, isn’t it?”

Louis wanted to argue that it wasn’t, at all. That you couldn’t just buy your way into forgiveness. He wanted to yell and scream, he wanted to rant out his feelings and how he had been feeling. He wanted to explain how he thought them going away on a holiday would only be a disaster but before he could even start, Harry continued to talk.

“We won’t be alone, if that’s what you’re worried about. Zayn’s coming along and my driver, David will be there. There’s no money for you to worry about, either. We’re staying at my house in London.”

Louis sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, seriously considering the option for a moment. It didn’t seem like a bad idea in abstract. It’d give him the perfect opportunity to get a break from work, too and time alone with Harry could go more good than harm. He still felt unsure, though.

“I’ve never been London before.”

“I know… I want to show you a city that has become one of my homes. Let me show you, please.”

Louis noticed the touch of plea in his voice, eager. He had never imagined he’d be face-to-face with Harry like he had been in the past few days, let alone being invited to go explore London city with him.

Harry was here, willing to offer a change in their broken relationship, open-heartedly and ready to take responsibility for his wrongdoings. He was prepared to make changes and was working towards it, too.

“I don’t know,” Louis sighed. “I have work.”

“You can ask for a leave. You slave there all day. You deserve a fucking break, Louis.”

He had never asked for holidays before. He had always attended every shift that he had been assigned to, had the perfect, clean record. Louis was sure if he approached his manager for time off, the man would sign off on it willingly, claiming Louis did need the break himself.

“Fine. I’ll let you know tonight.”

Harry looked like he wanted to cheer and fist pump the sky, looked like he wanted to embrace Louis. Instead, he stood where he did but his face brightened. He clapped his hands gleefully whilst still holding the leash. He looked genuinely overcome with happiness—eyes crinkled, mouth stretched wide in a smile that it almost looked painful.

Louis realised, pathetically, he only ever wanted to keep that smile on his face.

He let out a breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding, smiling at Harry encouragingly. It felt like a step forward.

**

Luke was, not surprisingly, not okay with it.

“What the fuck?” He said, pushing the covers off his body and standing up, looking downright livid at the concept. 

Louis frowned. A part of him had been excited to share the news with Luke, tell him about his desires to visit London and how it was finally happening. He couldn’t deny that he often thought about London, about the city Harry had wandered off and moved to. He had wanted to discover all the places that Harry had renowned as his home.

Yet Luke looked like he wasn’t onboard, eyes narrowed dangerously and arms crossed to display his disappointment. He was treating Louis like a toddler in trouble, like a father scolding his son.

Louis wasn’t okay with that.

He frowned, pulling the covers up and over him to cover himself.

“What the fuck, _what_?”

“Don’t get smart with me, Louis.”

“No, seriously. What the fuck is wrong with me going to London?”

“Um. Everything?” Luke repeated incredulously. “You’re going to the capital with a random guy for how long? A few days, a week? God knows what you’ll get up to.”

His eyes narrowed like slits. “You’re not my keeper, Luke.”

“I’m not trying to be!”

“Sure as hell you aren’t!” Louis’ voice raised back. “You keep telling me what I can or can’t do, who I can or can’t talk to. News flash, it’s my fucking life and I’ll do as I please and if I want to go and see London with somebody I’ve known my entire life, I will.”

“You won’t!”

“You can’t tell me what the fuck to do!”

“I can.”

Louis scoffed loudly. Suddenly, he didn’t want to be here anymore. He felt suffocated and like a child, being told off by a father he never had in the first place. Luke treated him like he needed to be watched, to be inspected and picked apart under a microscope. He was done with feeling like his self esteem was being torn apart constantly, that he had to be a certain way to please somebody else. Luke should be unconditionally supportive. Wasn’t that a part of being in a relationship?

Louis got out of the bed. He ripped the covers off him like they were burning him, walking towards the wardrobe where he had put his overnight bag.

Luke was by his side in a flash, grabbing onto his arm in a steel tight hold and pulling his body flush against Luke. The hold was painful, twisting his skin in a way that caused a sharp pang of pain to shoot up his arm.

“Luke..” He mumbled, helpless as he tried to tug his arm back.

Luke hardly ever got physical, never touched him such a manner. It was mostly his words, the implications behind them that had everyone frowning upon their relationship. That had Louis reeling for days from the implications behind the words.

“I said, _no_.”

Louis whimpered, unmoving and afraid. He hated how his breath hitched, how he was unable to do anything but allow himself to be manipulated under Luke’s hold.

He wanted to argue and continue to hold his ground, claim that he was going to go to London no matter what but he was genuinely afraid what would happen next. He was genuinely fearful that Luke might hit him, might actually hurt him and leave some damage. He was genuinely fearful of _Luke_. That wasn’t how a relationship was supposed to be.

“But—”

“I’ll take you to London, okay?” Luke spat. “If that’s what you want, I’ll give you that. We can go fucking tomorrow, if that’s what you want. But I’m not letting you go and meeting other people, I’m not letting you replace me so easily. No way.”

It was the furthest from the truth but Louis couldn’t find his voice to argue back.

“Uhhhh.”

Luke finally let go of his arm, almost pushing him back in the process so Louis’ body stumbled with the back of the wardrobe. He didn’t want to be here but he knew if he tried to leave, it’d only be worst. Louis felt compelled to stay. There was bile in the back of his throat, tears stinging his blue eyes.

Luke walked away, getting back into bed and not asking Louis to follow.

Louis didn’t.

He walked to the balcony, opening the door and sitting down on the chair. Holmes Chapel was quiet tonight, like every other night. He lit up a cigarette, his fingers shaking around the stick as he attempted to take a long drag. The tears left him before he could stop himself, feeling helpless and useless.

Luke owned him, it felt like. He was in the palm of Luke’s hands and the man manipulated him, did what he liked and he couldn’t even argue with it.

Louis sobbed quietly as he smoked, staring up to the stars and wishing for a different life, a different ending to his pathetic life.

**

Harry came over the next day, though. Bright and early just before the afternoon.

“Good afternoon, love!” Johnnah greeted him when she opened the door, a bright and welcoming painted over her face as she welcomed him, closing the door behind her. Louis was sitting in the living room and he didn’t need to look at who it was to confirm. He knew it was Harry just by Johannah’s fond voice, reserved just for him.

“‘Noon, Jo. How are you?”

“Just fine, thank you. Yourself? Would you like a cup of tea?”

Harry ducked down to kiss her cheek softly, nodding. “Of course.”

“It’ll be right out.”

Harry wandered into the living room and his already blissed out expression got wider upon noticing Louis. He crossed the room to Louis and he seemed to seek out something else, some sort of contact, but stopped himself before he could, flushing.

Louis pushed himself off the sofa, attempting a smile.

He was still feeling strange after his encounter with Luke, like he was having an out of body experience. He felt vulnerable and in a permanent state of not being in control of his own body. Every thought in his mind was plagued by Luke.

Harry must’ve noticed, immediately, that something was wrong because before Louis could even say anything.

“What’s wrong?”

Louis raised a brow, crossing his arms. “Huh?”

“That face… what’s wrong?”

“What face?”

“Louis.”

He let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair and flopping back onto the sofa. Harry did the courtesy of sitting besides him, his warm body next to his causing a small shudder go through his body. He relished in it, though.

“I don’t think I can come to London, Harry.” Louis explained quietly.

Harry’s expression fell. “Oh. Did you—were you not able to get the day off?”

“It’s not that,” he said honestly. He played with the fraying ends of the cushion that one of the twins had been picking apart. “It’s, Luke isn’t so fond of the idea, you know?”

Harry furrowed his brow. “No. No, I don’t believe I know.”

“He doesn’t want me to go London. Not without him and I can’t blame him, y’know? Because, he’s always wanted to go and it’d be an injustice to go without him first.”

Harry looked genuinely upset by the news. His bright expression that he had wandered in with had been completely wiped off, replaced by something… hurt, pained and contorted in a way that didn’t look comfortable. He withdrew himself from Louis, sitting back a little.

“You’re allowed to see other people and hang out with them. You don’t have to subject yourself to only Luke. You can go to London with Luke, too.”

He frowned. “I know that.”

“Do you?” He questioned, raising a brow.

The way questioned it, tilting his head to the side -- it made Louis feel stupid, inadequate. It was like he was a toddler being questioned and it oddly reminded him of Luke’s tactic. He didn’t need this treatment from Harry, too. Harry didn’t get to walk out of his life only to waltz back in and demand him to skip cities with him, then act like he was dull-witted. Perhaps, Louis was being sensitive. But he was offended.

Louis pushed himself off the sofa again, a grunt escaping his throat. The back of his mouth burnt and he couldn’t swallow down the distaste, no matter how hard he tried.

“Fuck this.”

“Wait, Louis—” Harry’s hand reached out to grasp his forearm firmly, trying to pull him back.

Memories of last night flooded his mind and his instant response was to snatch his arm back, rubbing over the spot Harry had touched like it had burned him. His eyes lit up with the fierce need to protect himself and Harry’s eyes dulled, like he had committed a crime. But Louis couldn’t acknowledge the guilt, not right now. Not when he had to protect himself.

“Don’t touch me.” He warned.

Louis was tired of people putting their hands on him like they owned a piece of him, tired of them shaping and manipulating him in the way they wanted him to be.

Harry looked absolutely distraught, tortured.

“Louis… I’m sorry. Just listen.”

“What the fuck do you want from me?”

“Just answer this. Do you want to come to London with me or not? Fuck everybody else who tells you otherwise, just tell me how _you_ feel.”

Louis pondered over the question, biting his lip. There was a simple answer to this, he didn’t even need to pretend.

“Of course.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, inching forward but not daring to put his hands anywhere close to Louis. 

“Then.. fuck anyone who tells you otherwise. Fuck that, really. You’re an independent man, you can do what you want. Fuck Luke and anybody else. You want to come to London? I leave tomorrow. Pack your bags, forget everything else. I won’t ask you again but I know you want to go now… and I’d hate that a boy pulled you back from that.”

“A boy that is my boyfriend.”

Harry searched Louis’ eyes for a moment, nodding slowly in agreement.

“Yes… your boyfriend, who also controls your life.”

“He doesn’t control my life.”

“Then come with me.”

It was a simple statement, a request—but the begging tone behind tone was obvious, it was clear and it was there. Harry was here, eyes alit and his body language begging. He wanted Louis to come.

Louis sighed. He knew there’d be backlash, he knew that Luke wasn’t going to like it and he was going to try and cause an argument. It could make or break them, it could cause Luke to act out in a way that’d harm him. But regardless, he felt the need to go. A compelling force that was forcing him.

“When do we leave?”

Harry’s smile twitched so wide, it looked painful. It had to be painful.

“Tomorrow morning. I’ll pick you up.”

**

[ Harry Styles - Sweet Creature](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8uD6s-X3590)

 

Louis, for once, followed his own heart. He didn’t listen to what Luke said and he didn’t let Luke control his life. Once his bags were packed, he felt liberated. Free. He was doing what he wanted and he wasn’t letting anybody hold him back. Harry brought that out in him—the freedom to be himself. To want to be himself and to allow himself to be.

Even after four years of the absence, Harry was still able to waltz into his life and only draw out positivity.

That was so like Harry.

He stood outside his house, leaning against the wall with a cigarette between his fingers and casually sipping on his cup of tea. It was early, really early, 7am and the sun was shining bright in the sky, beaming down on Louis’. He relished in the sunlight and allowed himself to soak it in, draining the last sip of his tea.

He had turned his phone off. He wasn’t prepared to get angry text messages, calls from Luke and he didn’t want to deal with it, either.

After another ten minutes or so, a black SUV pulled up outside Louis’ house. He bit his lip, wondering how many cars Harry had. How rich was he that he could afford anything he wanted at the snap of his fingers? Louis tried not to dwell on the thought, putting out his cigarette.

Somebody Louis didn’t recognise slipped out of the driver’s seat, walking over to Louis.

“Good morning, sir—”

“Louis.” He quickly corrected, not wanting to be addressed formally.

The driver seemed hesitant but he nodded. “Right. Louis. May I take your luggage?”

They both looked down to Louis’ singular, beaten down and worn out suitcase that wasn’t even his. It was his step-father’s and he had left it laying around, forgetting it to take it out with the rest of his rubbish.

He nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Harry’s just in the back seat. You can go ahead and join him, we’ll be on the road in no time.”

Louis smiled. “Thanks. What’s your name?”

“David.”

“David,” he held his hand out. “Nice to meet you.”

David looked a little surprised, probably not accustomed to the kindness of strangers after working with rich, snobby celebrities. Regardless, David took Louis’ hand and shook it, offering a squeeze.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

Louis walked off and allowed David to handle the small carry-on suitcase. He opened the back door and slid into the seat. It was warm today but inside the SUV, the temperature was controlled with AC blasting around the car. Louis sighed immediately, happily adjusting to the weather change.

Harry was sitting on the left side, feet tucked underneath him and his face buried in his phone. He looked exhausted, red rings under his eyes and eyes not fully open. But he looked up to Louis when he entered the car, putting his phone down.

“You came.” Harry stated, the smile bright.

Louis nodded. “I did.”

“You won’t regret it.”

“I hope not.”

David slid into the driver’s seat, starting up the engine that purred to life. It even drove like an expensive car, velvet smooth and not making loud, abrasive sounds. David backed out of the Tomlinson household drive and started to navigate through the narrow roads of Holmes Chapel.

“Is the drive straight to London?” Louis asked curiously, desperate to put some of conversation between the two of them.

“Yeah. Well, we’re going Bradford to pick up Zayn first then we’ll be on our way.”

“Zayn’s coming along?”

Harry hummed, nodding. “Yeah. He’s my manager so he kind of has to be there with me, especially for interviews.”

“Right. Of course.”

A beat passed between them as David turned on the radio, the volume a comfortable decibel so conversation could easily be passed between them.

Harry looked flawless, even in the morning. Though it was clear he lacked sleep last night -- with his unkempt hair, red eyes that he blinked rapidly every few minutes like he was forcing to keep them open -- he was still gorgeous, as ever. Louis found himself admiring the boy whenever he got the chance, eyes wandering over every inch of Harry and refusing to address the small giddiness in his chest

“You should sleep,” Louis said.

Harry looked over to him, shrugging. “I’m okay. I’m not tired.”

“Your face begs to differ.”

Harry looked so startled that he let out a chuckle, half gasped. “Excuse me, Louis. I look fabulous, even if it’s too early to function, thank you very much.”

Louis could only laugh, shaking his head fondly and before he could say anything in response, Harry was speaking again.

“Did you tell Luke, then?”

And just like that, a switch went off and the atmosphere changed in the car. Even David, oblivious and unaware, fidgeted in his seat like he had no idea what to do. Louis kept his eye diverted downwards at his wrung together fingers in his lap as he sighed, collecting himself. Louis’ jaw was clenched up, defensive and guard up again.

“No.”

Harry let out a sigh and nodding, facing out of the car window but not commenting any further. Louis was grateful for it.

They entered Bradford an hour or so later, David drove like a maniac and they managed to get there before the designated time. Louis had been holding on for dear life but Harry seemed nonchalant, barely even batting an eyelash every time David tried to swerve and nearly crashed into another car. He must’ve been used to it.

Zayn was waiting outside his house. He opened the boot, refusing to let David to do so and sliding into the seat in the back.

“Morning, my babes!” Zayn said, cheerful. He looked way too happy for 8am but Louis simply smiled at him, accepting his aura that changed the atmosphere in the car almost immediately.

Zayn’s happiness was contagious. As soon as he was sitting, he was lighting up a blunt and passing it around. Harry easily took a hit and Louis did, too—willing the thoughts of an angry Luke out of his mind. David kindly rejected it, opting to keep his eyes fixed on the road as they began the journey back down to the South, towards London.

There was not a single dull moment in the car since Zayn entered. He kept the conversation lively and going, reminiscing on stories about Harry on tour which had Harry flushing, groaning and pressing his head against the window. There were many stories: Harry when he slipped up on stage because of a banana peel, when a bra got thrown at him and he tried to wear it, when he tried to get the entire crowd to moan for him on command.

Louis listened to the wild stories, unable to stop the laughter that flowed from him insistently.

He felt robbed. He was missing out on a completely different Harry Styles—the Harry that was a performer, that put on a show every single day for months at a time whilst he was on tour. Louis knew he deserved a break after hearing about it from Zayn, frowning at a particular story when Harry got a fever and still refused to miss the show, lost his voice completely and had to go on bed rest for a few days.

“Harry…” Louis frowned at him.

He still looked embarrassed, his face in his hand.

“I hate you.” He said to Zayn, instead.

Zayn just shrugged, grinning. “No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t.” Harry repeated, confirming.

“Another story!” Zayn clapped his hands, eyes lighting up like he had just remembered he had a fortune stashed somewhere. “This was during the last few months, actually. Harry was sick, again. He gets a sick a lot on tour, claims he’s homesick or whatever but refuses to go back home all the same time. This boy, I swear.” 

Louis’ heart raced as he looked over to Harry, who seemed to be staring right back at Louis. Zayn was oblivious to them, continuing with his story.

“Anyway. So, he was sick. Dehydrated, sore throat, fever—you name it and we were travelling from Brazil to Colombia for the next show. We had a private jet since I knew Harry couldn’t handle first class in an airline, knowing his fans they’d probably be someone on there and Harry needed the sleep and rest. When we landed in Bogotá airport, there was a few fans waiting for him… because of course, they were. I insisted we used the back entrance to get out quicker considering he was sick but Harry refused, he wanted to meet the fans that were waiting for him. So, we reluctantly agreed and went through the front entrance. What we didn’t know was that overtime, the fans had accumulated,” Zayn paused, a thoughtful expression taking over him like he was having an epiphany. “It was a mob.. Actually,” his words slower now. “We tried to get through but Harry just got swarmed, disappeared in a sea of people and I remember panicking, he could barely hold himself up let alone holding up a group of screaming teenagers.”

For some reason, the story was making Louis’ eyes tear up. Harry looked unfazed, though—like it was no big deal. Like he could do it in his sleep.

“But yeah… then I saw Harry, crouched down besides a fan that had fallen,” Zayn’s lips stretched into a thin smile, leaning forward between the two seats in front of him where they sat, looking emotional. “He was being crowded, prodded, pulled in every direction by those girls but instead of getting out of there, Harry was on the floor, besides a fan. He was holding her hand whilst this girl sobbed, and cried. She was covered in blood, too. I think Harry was crying and I remember crying too.”

By now, Louis had an overwhelming urge to cry. He wasn’t sure why -- but the story was hitting him emotionally -- but he didn’t allow himself to do so. He swallowed the urge and the lump in his throat, exhaling.

“Harry went to the hospital with her for the check-up. We sat in the waiting room all night despite the fact that we had a show tomorrow and he gave the girl free backstage passes for the next show. She came along and he dedicated an entire song for her. Harry still keeps in touch with her, actually. It turns out she’s an orphan and she struggles a lot with everything. He sponsors her, actually.”

After Zayn’s story was over, silence fell upon them. Louis processed the story he had been told, overwhelmed with the consuming feeling he got whenever he thought too hard about Harry. There was something special within Harry, something that had been embedded into him that he endlessly dedicated towards doing good. Louis felt a sense of pride upon hearing the story.

Harry was the first to break the silence.

“She’s a great girl. Her name’s Gara.”

Louis nodded softly. “I bet she is.”

Zayn didn’t share any more stories after that. He offered them all a smile before withdrawing from the conversation altogether, claiming he needed more sleep. He stuck his earphones in and closed his eyes, successfully withdrawing entirely from the conversation.

Harry, at some time, fell asleep too, leaving Louis alone with David. He talked to David back and forth, finding out more about his life. 

“Sir, you should sleep too.” David interjected mid conversation.

Louis’ eyes filtered to Zayn and Harry, both lightly snoring in ridiculous positions as they slept. He was half tempted to snap pictures of it. 

“Louis, please,” he objected and shook his head. “Nah, I’m okay.”

Louis was enjoying his newfound freedom, away from Luke and his boyfriend’s overbearing rules about what he could or couldn’t do with his life. He was staring out of the windows, watching the countryside blurring into each other and he was having the time of his lives, realising he was out of Holmes Chapel and arriving in the capital. He had never imagined that day would come.

David stopped at service station but neither Zayn and Harry wanted to wake up, both grumbling nonsense.

Louis decided to take the pit stop, though. He could do with the stretch and the toilet break. David lead him inside like Louis was the celebrity, and not Harry who was safely in the SUV, snoring. Louis walked around the station, going through the different stores as David kept a safe distance right behind him. Louis got a twelve pack of Dunkin’ Donuts, some drinks and a magazine before peeing and they were back in the car.

One of Harry’s eyes opened when Louis got back into the car, mumbling under his breath a little. In a sleepy daze, his hand reached out to land on Louis’ upper thigh like it was second nature.

He inhaled a little, trying to ignore the weight of his hand.

“What’d you get?” Harry’s raspy, deep voice rumbled out, still sleepy.

Louis found his lips twitching into a smile as he relaxed, allowing the hand to rest on his thigh like it was a normal occurrence. It felt good. 

“I got us some donuts. Would you like?”

“Sure.”

He got up, yawning behind his fists and saying ‘good morning’ to David again before looking at the box of donuts.

“Damn,” Harry groaned. “They look so good. My trainer will kill me.”

Louis rolled his eyes because of course, Harry had a personal trainer.

“Just one won’t hurt you,” Louis promised, opening the box and allowing Harry to take his pick.

He opted for the simple, glazed donut, muttering an appreciative thanks before settling back on his chair. He withdrew his hand off Louis’ as he sat back in his seat, nibbling at the baked good, picking it apart but not actually eating. Which was annoying in itself. But Louis didn’t comment, picking up his own pick and digging right in.

“David, would you like one?” Louis offered.

David looked hesitant. “Uh… Louis, sir—”

“I insist. Go on.”

David’s eyes darted to Harry who simply nodded in encouragement before he picked one up, endless streams of ‘thank you’s’ exploding from him as he put it down on the dashboard and started up the SUV, pulling out of the car park.

Harry looked fond, his eyes glistening as he stared at Louis but he diverted his gaze elsewhere when Louis looked back at him.

They arrived in London an hour and half later. The traffic was horrendous, holding them up before they had even entered the Central and Louis began to feel agitated, fidgeting in his seat and picking apart the ends of the donut box. By now, Harry was fully awake and had his headphones in, gazing out of the window. Zayn was still fast asleep, tucked in the back with his arms crossed, head resting atop.

Harry looked over to Louis, noticing his restlessness.

“Are you okay, Louis?” He asked, pulling one earphone out and raising a brow at him.

Louis looked over to Harry, noticing the genuine concern painted in his green eyes. He swallowed, putting the box down on the floor and humming.

“Yeah, yeah. Fine.”

“It’s just rush hour in London, Lunch time. We’ll be at my house in thirty minutes, tops.”

“It takes thirty minutes to get to your house within London?”

Harry furrowed his brow, a deep laugh rumbling out of his stomach as he nodded.

“London is quite big, thrice the size of Holmes Chapel. It takes time to get from one end to the other. Don’t worry, we’ll be there. I know you get restless in cars.”

Which, he did.

Louis tried to distract himself for the remaining thirty minutes, feeling like the journey was never going to end. He rolled the windows though but David advised against it, not wanting other potential fans to spot Harry inside the car and cause manic. Louis wondered what that was like—to cause mayhem and a herd of screeching fangirls everywhere you went, without fail.

He listened to David, though and rolled the window up. David, in return, turned the A.C on for him.

David took a sharp turn into a road which was on a hill, drastically taking them upwards instead of a straight road. Louis’ eyes were sharp, keeping track of the outside world. It must’ve been obvious, his nerves that he wore on his sleeves because Harry’s hand reached out to rest on his thighs again. He wasn’t sure if that was helping, though but he tried to swallow down the bundle of unease sitting heavy on his chest, focusing on the fact that he’ll be inside Harry’s house for the first time.

Of course, when David rolled to a stop in front of a magnificent, gated mansion—it did nothing to help Louis’ nerves. His mouth was left hanging open at the house, unable to comprehend as his eyes darted over the place.

Harry looked equally nervous too, eyes hazy as the car rolled to a stop.

“Um… welcome to my London house?” Harry said, a laugh escaping him as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

It was a double fronted detached house, looking every bit grand and historical with vines growing up the walls and the front of the door. It screamed expensive and luxurious, lavishly built and secluded from the outside world. It looked like the perfect place to come away and hide from the world.

David got out of the car first, offering the keys to Harry. They both got out of the car as David worked on coaxing Zayn out of his sleep.

“This is.. Wow.”

Harry, barely twenty-three year old had achieved so much that he lived in a magnificent mansion in London. Louis had never imagined that. When they were just teenagers, attending school together, he had never dreamed that they’d be here today. Harry, who held the keys in the palm of his hand and walked around like he knew the place like the back of his hand. He unlocked the front door.

“Wow?” Harry repeated, looking amused as he pushed the door open. “Come in. David will get your luggage, don’t worry. Come through.”

The hallway was just as luxurious as the outside. The inside was bright, inviting with cream coloured walls, white and black tiles and marble staircase. The colour scheme, the decor was very classy and Louis could just imagine Anne working on the house, planning the ins and outs of the place. There was a chandelier hanging low of the ceiling, lighting up the place.

“Harry…” Louis said, unable to say much of anything else. He was completely in awe, eyes darting around the place.

“Let me give you a tour, get you used to the place.”

The house was very old-fashioned and as Louis walked through each room, he saw parts of Anne in the interior designing. It followed a simple colour scheme throughout: light and cream, with specks of black. Each room felt bigger than the last, the kitchen with a grand island and every kind of food you could imagine stocked in the cupboards.

The best part, perhaps, was the back garden. Harry looked hesitant, biting his lip as he grabbed the key and unlocked the doors to the garden.

Louis was immediately blown away. It had a massive pool, accompanied by a jacuzzi, stretching on for a few hundred yards. There was a diving board and the garden was full of fun things to do: a marquee, tables and chairs, hammock. It was truly magnificent and the more Louis looked around, the more overwhelmed he felt himself getting.

Harry must’ve noticed because he put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing.

“It’s a bit much, huh?”

He swallowed. “It’s beautiful, Harry.”

“Thanks. I worked hard for it.”

He exhaled, nodding. “I just… um, do you have water? Or something.”

“Of course. Come with me.”

Harry lead them back to his kitchen, prompting Louis to sit down on the stool as he walked through the place. He opened a cupboard, pulling out a tumbler glass and pouring Louis in some mango juice.

“You look uneasy. Some sugars will do you some good, give you an energy boost.” He promised, extending the glass to him.

“Thank you,” Louis mumbled, taking the glass of him and washing it down instantly.

“It’s a bit much, huh?” Harry asked, tilting his head to the side as he poured himself a glass of juice, too, sitting opposite him. “When I first purchased the house, I was blown away. I couldn’t even believe I was capable of doing so.”

“You doubted yourself?”

Harry seemed surprised by the question, nodding slowly. He took a sip of the juice, putting the glass down.

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“But you’re so good, at everything you do. Why would you doubt yourself?”

“It’s… not that simple, is it?”

“I guess not.”

Harry hummed, ending the conversation effectively by not responding. Harry finished his mango juice, putting the glass into the sink and muttering something about washing it later. He walked back to Louis.

“Would you like to take a nap? There’s nothing on the agenda today. We’re going for dinner later, in Soho.”

He nodded, fatigue catching up to him. “If you don’t mind.”

“‘Course not. C’mon, I’ll show you your room.”

As expected, the bedroom he was allocated was stunning in itself. It was following the same theme of light and bright, windows covering the entire wall and sunshine flooding through. But, it had more of a modern touch to it. The bed frame was low and wood, large and looking unfairly comfortable.

“You have an ensuite so you don’t have to worry about the bathroom,” Harry said, gesturing to the room off on the side.

Louis nodded, flopping down onto the bed and resisting an urge at how comfortable it was. He had no idea mattresses like this could exist. The younger man smirked knowingly but didn’t comment, eyeing Louis carefully.

“Be ready by 7pm for dinner. If you need me, my room is down the hall and Zayn’s is right opposite mine. If I’m not there, I’ll be downstairs.”

Louis nodded, thanked him for everything. Harry left him alone, closing the door softly behind him and leaving Louis alone.

He freshened up, opting to take a shower and moaning in how good the water pressure was. Everything about this house was a dream from the downstairs to how good the shower was hitting his lower back and working out all the kinks. He wandered into his room, picking out a fresh set of clothes and jumping into bed.

It was freshly made if the washed sheets smelling of fresh laundry was any indicator. Louis cuddled into it and before he could sleep, he had to make a quick Google search.

It was invasive of him. But the curiosity was bothering him and he wouldn’t be able to stop wondering, guessing.

‘Harry Styles’ net worth: 

£56 million.’

Louis’ eyes widened, the lump appearing in his throat.

He, himself, barely had a few thousand quid to his name whereas his childhood best friend was practically… swimming in money, a few thousand quid wouldn’t even leave a dent in his bank account whereas it’d leave Louis completely bankrupted.

Louis tried not to ponder over the news too hard, closing his eyes and willing himself back to sleep.

**

They went out for dinner in the evening time. Zayn was back to his usual energetic, chirpy self and called shotgun whilst Harry drove the three of them around the city. He knew the roads off by heart if him barely batting an eyelash down the streets was any indicator.

Louis gazed on the window as they drove past, watching the streets blur into each other. He was fascinated by the architecture of London, the high, old buildings and the atmosphere that he knew he’d thrive in.

“It’s beautiful, int it?” Harry noticed his staring, twisting his torso from the driver’s seat to address him. “I’m still mesmerised by London, too.”

“Mhmm. S’beautiful.”

They arrived in Soho as Harry parked up down a narrow, tight street and they walked into the centre of the liveliness. 

“This is my favourite area in the central,” Harry explained. “It’s something special and from here, you can walk to Covent Garden. It’s pretty special.”

Louis believed him but he still grinned, nodding. “Let me be the judge of that.”

He was a bit intimidated by London. He had never imagined a small, village boy like him would have the opportunity and luxury to explore around the city like he had all the money in the world. But Harry was blessed and he was offering this moment to Louis, taking the lead and walking through the streets of Soho.

It was every bit special as Harry claimed it to be.

There was a certain risque vibe that vibrated from the place. Many same-sex couples wandered around, hands entwined shamelessly. It wasn’t a gesture that was widely expressed in Holmes Chapel but the nonchalant here towards same-sex couples was refreshing and Louis found himself more accepted and relaxed than he had in awhile.

It was a lively atmosphere, crowded by people in the small streets, surrounded by endless adventurous restaurants.

But of course, they arrived at a fancy, pretentious French restaurant. Not that Louis was complaining, he simply nodded towards Harry as the waiter held the door open for them and they walked in. The place reeked of upper-class with the soft classical music playing in the background and the walls painted red.

The waiter seemed to recognise Harry, his eyes lit up in acknowledge.

“Mr Styles, welcome!” He greeted.

Harry shook his head, a strong firm hold as he clapped the waiter’s back.

“Evening, Jules. How’re you doing today?”

“Just fine. Better now that you’re here,” he flattered Harry, grinning. “May I take you to your reservation?”

A bubble of content laughter fell from Harry’s lips. He looked absolutely delighted as he nodded.

“Yes, please do.”

“Bien Sûr. Come right this way, sir!”

They followed Jules into the restaurant, down a staircase into the basement. It was one of the most private rooms, Jules explained, which provided the perfect secluded area for people seeking for intimate, quiet dinners without the bustle of Soho’s life outside. The room was stunning. The walls were also painted red with black panels, art hung up on the walls. Everything was elegant and yet, screamed expensive.

Jules passed out the menu when they were seated, promising to come back around for their orders.

“Here you go,” Zayn handed Louis a menu. 

Louis accepted it off him gratefully, scanning through the options. He had never tasted French cuisine and everything sounded strange to him as he read through the descriptions. He tried not to focus on how expensive all the food was, overpriced and out of his budget. He must’ve looked nervous because he felt a hand on his upper thigh.

When Louis looked up, Harry had subtly tried to give him reassurance. He had an easy smile over his face, squeezing Louis’ thigh.

He ended up ordering a main. Harry had ratted off the orders to Jules who had simply nodded, informing it’d be about fifteen minutes for it all to arrive. 

“This place is so fancy,” Louis commented as he glanced around. There were people seated around their tables, eating elegantly at their plates. They looked every bit important as Harry did, he wondered if they were also celebrities. “It’s nice. You don’t get something like this in Holmes Chapel.”

Harry’s eyes glistened, nodding. “Yeah, you’re right. We don’t.”

Jules returned with everybody’s food not much longer after, the waiting period not extending for masses of time. They all indulged, digging right in. They didn’t speak much except Harry’s occasional glance over to Louis, as to make sure he was enjoying the food.

Which, he was. Louis gave him a thumbs up.

“Expensive food tastes better,” Louis mumbled. “Who would’ve known?”

Both Harry and Zayn started to laugh as they nodded in agreement.

When they were finished, they didn’t go for the dessert option. Before anyone could argue about the bill, Harry simply handed over his debit card to Jules who took the current amount of money off him and handed it back.

“Harry…” Louis frowned, not feeling comfortable with the idea of somebody paying for his dinner.

Harry only smiled, though.

“It’s fine. It’s on me. A treat.” He promised.

When they went home that night, they ordered in ice-cream with cheesecake and they snuggled up on the sofa to watch reruns of the best Marvel movies.

It was the best night-in Louis had had in awhile.

**

“Wake up!”

Louis jolted awake at the sudden voice, opening a wink of his eye to notice Zayn standing before his bed. He groaned. The boy was way too chirpy for the early hour. His alarm hadn’t gone off yet, meaning he didn’t need to wake up yet.

“Zayn…” He rolled his eyes, sounding exasperated. “Get the fuck out.”

“Come on. The car’s coming in thirty minutes.”

With that, he left Louis alone but the door wide open, the sun shining right through. He wasn’t prepared to abandon sleep, fatigue still heavy behind his eyelids and bones creaking with the need for more hours. But he had come with Harry with the sole purpose of accommodating him to interviews, and it would be injustice not to muster up to it.

Twenty minutes later, Louis was showered, dressed and waiting by the front door.

Harry walked out of the kitchen, dressed casual but every bit put together with his hair swirled and curly, his clothes simple but of expensive material. He had an half eaten banana in one hand, a breakfast muffin in the other. His face brightened upon noticing Louis at the door.

“Do you not want breakfast?”

Louis shook his head.

“Nah. I don’t typically eat breakfast. Could we stop for coffee, though?”

He nodded, taking another bite of the banana and chewing slowly.

“Sure. I mean, there’ll be refreshments at the studios we’re going to if you’d like. If not, we can definitely stop by Starbucks, or something?”

“Refreshments will be fine, thanks.”

Harry grinned. “Awesome. How’d you sleep?”

“Wonderfully. That bed is amazing.”

“Right? It was Zayn’s recommendation and I don’t regret taking it. I have the same mattress for my own bed and I swear, I haven’t slept better since.”

They chatted back and forth for a few minutes whilst Harry finished his breakfast, the mood light amongst them. It didn’t feel like Harry had disappeared for four years. It felt like no time had passed between them, that everything was fine between them. Zayn finally came down and opened the front door, leading them out to where David was already waiting.

“What studios are we going to?” Louis asked curiously, buckling his suitcase.

“BBC first,” Zayn said, shuffling through some papers on his lap as he revised them, humming thoughtfully. “Then ITV and then we end with Capital Radio studios.”

“Wow…”

Harry looked at him, amused. “Wow? I feel like that’s the only word that’s been coming out of your mouth recently.”

“It’s all… a bit too much.” He admitted.

Both Harry and Zayn let out a laugh, clearly experienced and had no idea what Louis was feeling. He hadn’t done anything out of his regular routine for almost three years, on a loop between McDonald’s and home. It was all overwhelming.

David started up the car, peeling away from the gated residence and down the route to central London. There was music playing through the radio to fill in the gaps of all the silence between them and Louis felt luxuriated. He was settled on his seat, head thrown back on the headrest as he bopped his head to the tune.

Harry looked equally relaxed, too.

BBC studios was first. They arrived on Regent Street and another bodyguard that had been assigned for Harry guided him out of the car and towards the building, herding Zayn and Louis, too.

When Louis looked up, he noticed the small abundance of girls waiting outside the studio. They were standing behind railings, their screeching started as soon as their eyes laid on Harry. His eyes widened at the scene, quickly hurrying himself into the building behind Zayn.

Harry, on the other hand, stopped for each fan waiting outside. He took his time with each girl standing there, signing whatever was thrown in front of his face and taking pictures with each of the girls he encountered, a perfect pose painted over his expression. Harry held each girl’s hand as they talked to him, a charming grin over his face as he thanked them and made his way through the small crowd.

Once he got back inside, Zayn looked exasperated.

“I told you not to do that today. We’re following a strict time scheldule.”

Harry shrugged as he ran a hand through his hair. “I told you, if I found fans waiting, I’ll always wait up for them.”

Zayn rolled his eyes but didn’t comment any further. Louis was too dazed, overcome with fondness to find an appropriate response. He simply looked away, following in any direction he was asked to do so.

They were led through the lobby, into lifts and into the fifth floor where the interviewer: Nick Grimshaw was waiting. He greeted Zayn first, and then to Louis, introducing himself. When he reached Harry, though, he didn’t wait a minute before cutting to the chase and throwing his arms around Harry.

Harry chuckled as he eased into the embrace, his arms circling around Nick and holding him tight.

“Mate, I’ve missed you!” Nick murmured into his shoulders, patting his back before withdrawing himself. “Your tour has been consuming too much of your time. Where’s our ‘The Notebook’ dates?”

Harry looked content when he pulled off the hug, the smile so wide it must hurt his face.

“I’m sorry! I’m all yours for the next month or so. Name a time and date, I’ll be there.”

“Might take you up for that offer.”

“Please do!” Harry nodded.

Louis had always wondered how behind the scenes worked for celebrities but he had never experienced it first hand. It was a little mesmerising for him as he was led through the different rooms and stages before Harry could go on radio. There was a strict script to follow, Zayn had notes on what could be mentioned and couldn’t be and Louis felt relief spread through him when he realised that the topic of girlfriends wasn’t completely off the agenda.

He wasn’t sure he could stomach Harry happily discussing the girls he had been sleeping with recently on live radio. It wasn’t something he could ever come to stomach, he realised.

Louis watched from behind a glass wall at Harry and Nick sitting together in a room, microphone before their face as Nick sat before all the controls needed to host a radio show. 

Harry seemed to be in his element, completely blissful around Nick. His body was completely lax, laid back and spurting out useless things that he only said when he was genuinely comfortable around someone.

“You didn’t know about Nick, did you?” Zayn asked, standing next to him. He was still holding onto the paper, tapping a pen against his lip as he thoughtfully scanned the two men behind the glass.

Louis shook his head slowly. “No… no, I didn’t.”

“When Harry first started in the industry, he got popular really quickly. He had no idea what to do, where to go… where to make the right connections, y’know?”

“Right… yeah.”

“He attended a high-class party, surrounded by celebrities, and his previous management had forced him to make connections that night. Harry was lost, a little lamb really. Nick found him and brought him over to his own friendship group, introducing him to the BBC crew. Since, they treat Harry with respect. They’d never spin stories on Harry which I appreciate, I can trust Nick with closed eyes.”

“Oh.”

“Harry got fucked over by many people, continuously. This industry burned him out in the beginning.”

Louis bit his lip, eyes drifting to where Harry was sitting. He didn’t look like somebody who had been fucked over, somebody who had been hurt. He looked angelic, like a halo could be seen as he bantered back and forth with Nick, at ease with being recorded. He looked as he always did: charismatic, welcoming to everybody whether they were face-to-face or not.

Louis wondered how Harry must’ve felt. Harry was full of goodness, never wanted to hurt anybody. He must’ve been young, vulnerable and he had been hurt by people who he trusted them to guide through a new path he had discovered in life.

Louis wondered whether Harry nearly called him to tell him, tried to reach out to him like Louis often did if the unsent voice messages were any indicator.

He swallowed loudly.

“That’s… a shame.”

“I’d never do that to him.” Zayn said seriously, like he was trying to prove his own worth. So far, Zayn seemed like he took his job seriously and had Harry’s best interests at heart.

“I believe you.”

The interview went by smoothly. Harry answered all of Nick’s uninvasive question serenely. His features were relaxed and smoothed out, not a sense of guard up or the need to defend himself. It was clear they were genuine friends and Louis liked that, that through all the confusion Harry had people he could depend on.

Four years later, he had made a group of reliable friends that extended beyond the professional bond.

“Before we finish our interview with Harry and leave with his single: Two Ghosts. I’d like to ask you a question all the fans were eager to know about.”

Harry hummed, tapping his microphone.

“Fire away.”

“They wanted to know…” Nick said, scrolling through Twitter on his iPad before speaking into the microphone. “When you’ll be going on tour and whether or not you’ll even be returning, at all?”

Harry’s face scrunched up, the camera picking up his reaction at the exact second.

“Of course, I’ll be going back on tour. The hiatus was a short one, a month at most. I’m not going to lie to you, there’s no exact date. I need a break and honestly, I deserve one too but I love touring, y’know?” Nick nodded and he continued to talk. “So, I’ll be back and I’ll finish the Europe leg. For sure. Soon, if everyone will still have me.”

“Of course, they will!” Nick laughed.

They concluded the interview shortly afterwards. Harry blew kisses to the camera before the live show ended and they weren’t on the record anymore. As soon as the cameras were off, Harry hooted loudly, causing everyone to burst into laughter.

There was something captivating about Harry that had everyone falling head over heels for him. The cameramen seemed fond of him, Nick seemed to be in seventh heaven just looking at him and Zayn’s eyes were glistening. Louis felt the same. He was undeniably in love with Harry since he was a teenager.

**

Later that night, Louis was in bed when there was a knock on his door.

He scrambled to sit upright, locking his phone and pushing it under his pillow before clearing his throat.

“Come in!”

The door opened slightly and revealed Harry, dressed in his pyjamas and a sleepy expression painted over his face. They had a busy day today and both of them deserved the rest yet here he was, hair pulled back by a headband and holding a tray full of food.

“Can I come in?” He asked.

Louis found himself smiling instinctively, a natural response around Harry whether or not he wanted to admit it or not. He couldn’t deny him a thing. He nodded, pulling his covers down and patting the space besides him.

“What’s that?” Louis nodded to the tray in his hand.

“This?” Harry quirked a brow to the food, settling it down on the bed before walking around to the other side, climbing in. “You didn’t eat dinner and skipped out on the supper Zayn brought so, I brought it to you.”

The tray was full of variety of different foods, a complete selection to choose from and all of Louis’ favourite things. There was a stack of Mark and Spencer’s scotch pancakes, complete with syrup and whipped cream on top, there was white chocolate bar and a glass of chocolate milkshake. 

“You want to make me fat,” Louis groaned but the smile didn’t fade from his face.

Harry beamed, nodding.

“Entirely my intention, of course.”

He prepared a plate for Louis, selecting a bit of everything and handing it over. Louis accepted it with a small ‘thank you’, cutting a piece of the pancake and immediately gobbling it down. He had neglected food the rest of the day and was glad to have something in his mouth again, moaning around the taste a little.

“You remembered I love Mark and Spencer’s pancakes.” Louis muttered when he had swallowed a mouthful.

Harry was sitting with his back against the bedpost, legs up to his chest and arms wrapped around them. He looked young, then. He didn’t look like a millionaire who had made it out in the world, or somebody who had seen the world, travelled all around. He looked like Harry when he was sixteen, eager to please.

He looked like the Harry he had always known and fallen in love with. 

Harry had never changed. Louis had just imagined he had, put thoughts into his head that simply weren't true and didn’t exist. He had been trying to appease himself, to make it easier on himself. 

Because Harry was here. Fame hadn’t changed him a single bit. He was still every bit charming, he still knew how to greet everybody and make them fall in love with him with his manners. He still had his morals that his mother had ingrained within him from the day he was born.

Louis had done him injustice for ever thinking differently of him. 

“Of course I did.” Harry looked surprised that it wasn't even question. 

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

“Eat, as well,” Louis insisted, pointing to the remaining pancakes. 

Harry hummed thoughtfully before giving in, nodding and placing two pancakes into another plate. 

“Can't resist. It reminds me of when we'd go to Marks and Spencer’s after school and buy an entire pack, sit in the cafe and eat it with cups of coffee.”

The memory was so casually thrown out there that Louis nearly choked on the syrup in his mouth, eyes widening. He hasn't thought back on their school days in so long, burying those fond memories somewhere in the back of his mind so he didn't have to deal with the bitter distaste that came with remembering Harry was no longer with him. 

But Harry didn't hold back. It was clear he hadn't forgotten. 

Louis licked his bottom lip, willing his heart race to climb down. 

“Yeah… those were the days.”

“We used to get kicked out, remember?” Harry continued, apparently immune to Louis’ turmoil. “We used to cause such misery to the other customers - which were normally older people, they hated us - and the workers had to eventually ask us to leave.”

It happened every so often. There never used to be a dull moment between Harry and Louis and there was no wonder people got tired of them. Some were mesmerised by the dynamic they shared, others not so much which lead to their loud laughter and fooling around to be expelled. 

“I remember.”

“Those were the days,” Harry repeated in agreement. 

They ate their pancakes in silence for the next few minutes, not needing any words to fill in the silence. What mattered the most, right now, was that Louis was with Harry. That despite all the heartbreak, he had still conquered because he was here - with Harry. 

Louis had seriously misjudged Harry, from everything he was and everything he had achieved. 

“Can I ask you something?” Louis finally forced himself to say, the nerves bubbling in his chest before the words had even escaped him. 

He had never searched for validation from Harry. He had never needed to. They never hid how they felt. Louis had been hopelessly in love with Harry as teenagers growing up and he was sure it was never a secret. Though they had never talked about their feelings, Louis remembered every single look Harry gave him before they fell asleep every night wrapped up in each other's arm. 

But if he didn't ask, Louis’ curiosity may eat him whole. 

Harry looked over to him, lowering his forkful and nodding slowly - looking every bit apprehension, too. 

“Sure. You don't have to ever ask.”

He hummed. “I just… did you think of me? The first year you were away? Did you ever want to call me?” _When you never did._

Harry seemed blindsided by the question before his eyes narrowed, expression caught off guard. He furrowed his brow, lowering the plate altogether and abandoning his pancakes. 

He twisted his torso to face Louis better. 

“What do you mean?”

Louis laughed. “It's a pretty straight forward question.”

“You think I didn't?” He asked, almost sounding offended.

“Well.. you never called, did you? You refused to respond to my text messages, you stopped coming back to Holmes chapel. I don't know anything, Harry.”

Harry looked tortured, eyes frantic as he searched Louis face. 

“I… of course. Louis, _always_ ,” he stressed, looking every bit stressed, too. “I always wanted to call, always wanted to text.”

“Then… why didn't you?”

Harry bit his lip, looking away. 

So, they were doing this. They were talking about what had happened, they were addressing the elephant in the room that was being carefully avoided for the past week or so. 

“I don’t know.” He answered truthfully.

“That’s… not an answer.”

“I don’t have a straight answer. I don’t know how to answer the question, don’t know what to tell you except I wanted to. All the time. I wanted to.”

Louis swallowed, unsure whether or not he could accept that answer or not. He wanted more, he wanted an explanation but with that territory, Harry could divert the question right back him. He could ask something, too. He could ask why Louis never attended any of the concerts, never listened to his music, didn’t follow through with his promise.

They had both royally fucked up in their own way.

“I… I believe you,” Louis said reluctantly, licking his lips as he put his plate down. “I just don’t know if I can accept the answer. You wanted to but you just couldn’t?”

Harry looked guilty, eyes remorseful but not speaking up. He kept his gaze diverted on the plate in front of him, pushing the pancakes around but not putting it into his mouth. His quiet, his no response bothered Louis more. If this was how it was going to be - he’d rather not talk about it, at all.

“Forget it,” Louis sighed.

“No—”

“Forget it, okay?” He said, a little firmness in his voice. “We’ll talk about it when we’re both ready. Let’s just… not.”

Harry seemed uncertain but also relieved, nodding instantly now that he had gotten the approval of the topic being moved onto something else. Maybe, they’d never be able to talk about it properly with the atmosphere being awkward. It wasn’t acceptable—shouldn’t be acceptable, Louis should fight for answers but Harry should, also. 

For now, he was content that he had Harry back in his presence. He was going to soak it up before he had to give it up again, the small nagging voice in his mind reminding him that all of this was temporary.

**

The next morning, Zayn opted to stay in bed and Harry absolutely refused to, dragging Louis out for breakfast. They had to take a driver and a bodyguard with them, just in case as David explained that London was a vicious and dangerous city for Harry, sometimes. There were fans that stalked him relentlessly in the city, paparazzi that followed him endlessly. The thought sat uneasy with Louis but Harry seemed unfazed, shrugging and claiming it was ‘dedication’.

It was so like Harry to extract positives from an extremely shitty situation, trying to find the good things about everything.

“Where are we going?” Louis asked, unsure where he was being taken.

Harry tapped his nose, though with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Oh, you’ll see.”

Even after their conversation last night where they had stayed up and ate pancakes, there was no lingering tension between them now. Harry seemed completely relaxed, hair thrown up and sunglasses over his eyes, dressed casual with a water bottle in his hand. He was bopping his head to the music David had playing over the radio, muttering the words under his breath.

It made Louis feel somewhat better—they had reached a point where they were appreciating every minute they had in each other’s presence, that big, bold conversations wasn’t temporarily crippling their friendship.

They end up in Brick Lane in east London. It was a street which was lively, a shift from central to something more ethnic, colourful, surrounded by people from all different races. It was an edgy place and attracted a popular crowd of people, swarming around in groups as they walked through the different markets, restaurants. 

“Wow… this is different.” Louis mumbled when the car came to a stop.

David hummed, sliding up the sun shade.

“Actually, this place in east London was associated with slums and gang violence—maybe, still does. Poverty is widespread in many places around the east. Do you know who Jack the Ripper is?” David explained, to which Louis nodded slowly. “He committed many of his crimes here.”

“Oh.. Wow.”

“Fascinating, right?” Harry spoke up, after letting David say his piece. “I love this place. It’s so different from where I live.”

“Yeah, wow.”

Harry opened up his car door, keeping his sunglasses protecting his face and concealing his identity as he waited for Louis to join his side. David stayed in his car, claiming he’d by by their side in any time of help that was needed. They wandered down the street, just the two of them.

Louis looked around, mind open to an entirely different world. He looked over the graffiti all over the walls, the market that people were swarming in and out of. It was all different to what he was used to, had never seen such a scene before him.

They stopped outside a tiny restaurant, crowded by people.

Louis narrowed his eyes, had expected something grand, fancy considering Harry but he didn’t voice his opinions. Harry took them inside and he suddenly realised why the place was chosen.

[ Cereal Killer Cafe.](http://www.cerealkillercafe.co.uk/)

It was a cafe of _cereals_. Louis’ mouth was hanging open as he analysed the wall of different cereals behind the counter where the workers were serving, running his eyes through the different types from all parts of the world.

“Harry.. This is wonderful.”

Harry hummed as he queued up. “I knew you’d like this place. I’ve been here a few times, you order a bowl of cereal, choose your flavour milk and any toppings. You love cereal, so.”

“I do. I might go wild with the options.”

Harry let out an abrupt laugh, eyes crinkling as he nodded. He stood in front of the counter at his turn, smile only growing when he interacted with the workers. They seemed to know him and had no problem fixing his regular bowl, asking how Harry was doing and how his tour was going. Harry responded friendly and open, talking to each of the three people working behind the counter.

“Oh, this is my mate, Louis. Go on, order yours too.”

Louis nodded, flushing a little as he stepped forward. It was an endless choice and he had no idea where to start.

The worker seemed to notice so she aided him. “Would you prefer British or American cereal?”

“American. Might as well.”

She picked out a few of the favourites and put it out for him to choose from.

“I’ll go with fruit loops.” He ended up deciding on.

Which Harry was in agreement of, humming and nodding. “Excellent choice.”

“Milk of choice?”

“Hm.. Banana milk.”

“Any toppings?”

Louis glanced over the selection. “Oh, oh. Chocolate cookie dough bites.”

The worker laughed as she nodded, completing the bowl for him and handing it over to him.

“That’ll be £12.60.”

Before Louis could extract his wallet from his back pocket, Harry was already handing over a twenty note which made him frown. He didn’t mind Harry paying once or twice, for a drink but for every meal, it was beginning to make him feel uncomfortable. Louis hated feeling indebted to others. But Harry didn’t seem to mind and apparently, he was swimming in his tens of millions as it was. He didn’t take the change, splitting it out equally for the workers and walking to a seat in the back.

Before they could indulge in their breakfast, a few fans approached the table.

It should’ve been annoying but Harry was nothing but a perfect celebrity, saying hello and talking to them. They asked for pictures and he politely declined, saying he didn’t want anybody to know where he was right now. The fans seemed disappointed but Harry offered them a hug each and they walked off, grinning and giddy.

“Do you always get stopped like that?” Louis couldn’t help but ask when they were alone again, stirring the cereal in his bowl.

Harry shrugged. “Sometimes, yeah. It depends, really. Where I am. London, it always happens.”

“Isn’t that.. Irritating?”

He seemed to double take on that question, not answering immediately as he pushed a serving of the cereal into his mouth and chewed slowly. 

“Not so much irritating, just.. An invasion of my privacy, I guess. I can’t really do much of anything without it being recognised, or talked about and I don’t like that.”

“So you mean, it’s irritating. In other words.”

Harry let out a laugh, shaking his head. “I owe the fans everything, y’know? They made me who I am, took me where I am… the least I can do is stop for them, take pictures with them, talk to them. They’re all humans who deserve decent human respect, even if it’s from their idol.”

“You deserve respect and privacy, too.”

He nodded. “That, I do. But I get that. I get respect and privacy. It’s not hard to hide yourself. If you don’t want to be seen, you won’t be seen. Like those pictures I said no to.”

Louis finally took a bite of his breakfast cereal. It was delicious -- an instant, remarkable blend of all things sugary, topped off with cookie dough bites to marry it altogether. He let out a sound of appreciation which made Harry look up, raising a brow but eyes darkening.

“But, do you feel guilty when you have to reject pictures?” He resumed their conversation from before.

“Sometimes… I guess,” he replied slowly like he was trying to ponder over the question asked. He put his spoon down for the meanwhile, rubbing his arms. “Some of these girls never have a chance to meet me again and if I reject pictures, it’s…hard.” 

“I get you.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah but like, it’s for my safety. When Zayn says it’s a no-picture day, it’s what goes.”

After they had finished their breakfast and Harry had done another round of thanking the workers profusely, signing their receipts and taking pictures with them—there was a small crowd of girls waiting for him, their cameras thrusted out and screaming for him.

Which obviously, attracted more attention from nearby people.

“Oh, shit,” Harry muttered under his breath, his expression changing from relaxed to stressed in matter of seconds. He looked over to Louis, desperation clinging onto his every feature. “You need to go back to the car and find David.”

“I… I can’t leave you here with this crowd.”

“I’ll be fine. They’re just fans. Go, get David.”

Louis nodded, shielding his face as he started wandering off in another direction than the crowd. Thankfully, the girls didn’t seem fazed by him. After all, he wasn’t the pop star amongst the two of them. But a few of their eyes followed Louis and they continued to snap pictures of him walking away, which was beyond his understanding as to why.

He reached the car, tapping on the window.

David unlocked the car, opening the door.

“How was breakfast? Where’s Harry—”

“There’s a crowd around him. A mob? I don’t know, he’s outside the cafe, you need to go.”

David’s expression died instantly. He got into action with the bodyguard, easing out of the car and making Louis sit inside whilst they retrieved Harry. He knew Harry wasn’t in any immediate danger, he was just surrounded by girls who loved him, were his fans. They were harmless. But the entire situation seemed surreal. That Harry couldn’t even go out for breakfast before getting recognised and only twenty minutes later, being surrounded by girls.

It took a whole fifteen minutes before the three of them returned together, Harry looking a little disheveled as he slid into the car.

“You alright?”

Harry nodded slowly as he buckled up his seat belt. “I’m okay, yeah. I just.. They were paparazzi there, wasn’t there? Did Zayn call for them?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” David answered for him, starting up the engine and quickly peeling away. “It must’ve been the fans, for money or something.”

“Well, shit.” He turned to Louis, remorseful. “They might’ve snapped a few pictures of you, in that case.”

“What?”

“I know. I know. They might’ve managed to get a few pictures of you, is all.”

Louis’ mind was spinning. Why’d they care about him? He was a nobody, working in McDonald’s and living in Holmes Chapel with his mother. He wasn’t Harry Styles—a famous, rich pop star with a big following.

“I don’t understand why.”

Harry’s hold tightened around the water bottle he had brought with him, taking a sip as his throat bopped to swallow it down loudly.

“They get… weird about new people that I’m hanging out with, obsessed almost. Sometimes, they don’t care who if it’s not a girl so maybe, we’re safe.”

“Maybe, we’re safe.” Louis repeated back, not sounding very safe.

**

They definitely were not safe. Especially not Louis.

The articles hit the next morning, bright and early—Harry Styles and his new ‘man’ friend - unnamed but it was clearly Louis. He looked bewildered in the pictures, eyes wide and scurrying away towards David. It was only a few shots but it was enough, his face was out there. 

Social media had, apparently, exploded. Fans had found his social media accounts that he had. They had been tweeting him constantly, his phone buzzing with notifications, questions. They were commented underneath his Instagtam pictures. He had to resort to muting his phone and then deleting the application off his phone altogether.

Harry looked guilty, biting his lips as he sighed.

“I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”

Louis looked up from where he was sitting on Harry’s dining table, hand in his phone and a bowl of cereal in front of him. He shook his head slowly, locking his phone and putting it down on the table.

“No, it’s not.” He sighed. 

“It is—”

“Harry, stop. You didn’t ask to get followed around by people constantly, okay?”

“But now, they found you.”

“So?” Louis rolled his eyes, acting like it wasn’t a big deal. And maybe, it wasn’t. It wasn’t like he was famous or important. When they realised he was a washed up twenty year old something with a McDonald’s job, they’d lose interest quickly. “They’ll forget about me as quick as they found me, trust me. I’m nothing special.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Louis.”

“Harry.”

“Don’t say that.”

He rolled his eyes, putting his spoonful of crunchy nut down.

“Just… stop worrying, okay? I’m not worried.”

Harry didn’t look convinced. He pulled out a chair next to Louis and sitting down, wringing his fingers together. There was a clear indicator that Harry wanted to talk so he waited for him to start.

Finally, he sucked a breath and opened his mouth.

“I’m just nervous. When I first became famous and had people following me around, I still had a group of fairly normal friends,” he explained. “They weren’t famous, or anything and I had made them upon arriving to London. But they couldn’t keep up with all of the… paparazzi and the unwanted attention thrown their way so they stopped associating themselves with me. They were my _mates_ , y’know? I had love for them and I had nobody else in London.”

Louis’ heart softened, squeezing a little at Harry’s story. He didn’t deserve that—he didn’t deserve losing people because they couldn’t handle what came along with being associated with Harry. 

“They weren’t good friends if they couldn’t handle something that wasn’t your fault, wasn’t something you can control, Harry.”

“No.. that’s not fair, they were good friends. They just didn’t sign up for that.”

“So? It shouldn’t be that easy to drop friends.”

Harry looked unsure but he didn’t fight the conversation any longer, looking tired as he rubbed his eyes.

“Are they going to do anything about the article?” Louis asked, wondering how the management would handle such unwanted, useless articles and pictures that were posted online.

Harry shook his head slowly.

“Nah. We don’t do damage control on articles that… aren’t damage. It’s a typical article—somebody spotted us, they spun with it and talked shit. It’s weird, actually,” he paused. “Usually, we call the paps ourselves for certain events, or something. Or publicity we want done in a certain way, y’know? But somebody must’ve tipped them off.”

“I just don’t understand why they’d be interested in an normal guy going out to eat. Why is that so important to them about you?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know but it is. Anything they can get their hands on—pictures, information—they eat up. I think it’s because of the hiatus. Since I announced it, they’re eager to spin stories about how I’m doing, how I’m holding up. It’s ridiculous but it is what it is.”

Louis’ ‘it is what it is’ tattoo stung under his shirt. He wasn’t sure if Harry’s ever seen it. He had gotten it across his collarbones a year after Harry had been gone, needing a permanent reminder of his best friend and the situation. It was a situation he couldn’t ever change. It is what it was. 

Harry hadn’t seen many of his tattoos, actually. He had started a little collection over his arms, his chest since he had been gone. They mainly remained concealed by his clothes but Harry must’ve spotted the ones scattered alongside his wrist, forearm—they weren’t a secret and they weren’t intended to be, either.

“I’m sorry,” Louis finally broke the silence, licking his lips. “I can’t imagine how that must be like, not having any privacy.”

“I’m mostly used to it. It’s fine, really. You don’t have to keep apologising.”

“Neither do you.”

Just then, their conversation was interrupted by Louis’ phone ringing. He looked down, expecting it to be his mother but instead, Luke’s face was plastered across the screen. The display picture was of Luke’s arms around Louis. It was an adorable picture, a perfect example that their relationship used to be worth salvaging.

Dread filled his bones instantly as he stared at the phone ringing, Luke’s number flashed across the screen.

He hadn’t talked to Luke since their last encounter when Luke had claimed he wasn’t allowed to go London. He obviously knew that Louis had gone against his ‘rules’ because Johannah had called, saying Luke came over looking for him and she hadn’t lied about Louis’ whereabouts. A part of him had been surprised that Luke didn’t come knocking on Harry’s door to drag Louis home.

“Shit.” He whispered under his breath, not making a move for the phone.

The call died and not two seconds later, Luke was calling him again.

Harry sat next to him, frozen as his eyes drifted between Louis and the phone buzzing insistently. 

“Maybe, you should pick up.”

Louis took a deep breath. He didn’t need to be afraid of his long-term boyfriend. Relationship was supposed to be a safe place, not someone he dreaded to talk to, hid away from in a different city entirely.

He nodded at Harry, getting up from the table and taking the call into the garden.

Louis took a deep breath before pressing accept, putting the phone against his ear.

“Hello.”

There was a second’s pause.

“Did you see the Daily Mail article today?”

“I did.”

“Did you see the pictures of yourself?”

Louis bit his lip, his skin crawling like ants with the need for a cigarette right about now.

“I did, yeah.”

“Do you want to explain yourself?”

Louis resisted the urge to scoff, knowing it’d no way make the situation any easier. Instead, he remained stubbornly quiet as he leaned against the wall.

“Louis,” Luke said, dangerously quiet like he was seconds away from exploding.

“What?”

“I said—do you want to explain yourself?”

“Explain what, exactly?”

That set Luke off. He exploded and didn’t calm down for the ten long minutes of the duration of the call. He was yelling, screaming down the line, throwing profanities at Louis openly, swearing down at him. Louis felt like a toddler getting scolded and he hated it, how he was treated like a child.

He hung up but before he could make another move, Luke was texting him.

It followed in the same manner.

_‘You fucking asshole. You fucking cunt. I made you, I made you who you are.’_

_‘You’d be nothing but.. Wait, that’s right. You are nothing!’_

_‘Get your ass home, right now.’_

_‘What does Harry have that I don’t have? Looks, money? Because I can get that for you, Louis. I can. Stop being so fucking disloyal, you little bitch.’_

Louis’ lips start to tremble as he read the text messages, unable to stop the imploding emotions inside of him. He wasn’t sure how to react, what to do. He had never cried over Luke, not much. Over time, he had become accustomed to the bullshit Luke put him through and how he treated him but now… he had been feeling liberating, free. It was back to square one when he remembered the relationship he was in.

When he remembered what Luke was really like.

He must’ve been crying loudly because Harry was out in a flash, eyes frantic. He didn’t waste a second before pulling Louis into a hug.

In the embrace, Louis let out a loud sob and curled up against Harry, trying to gather warmth from him.

“Hey, hey…” Harry’s voice was feather light as he stroked Louis’ back softly, keeping his touch barely there. “What’s wrong? What did he say? Are you okay? Louis.. Please, you’re scaring me,” the stream of words were constant but Louis couldn’t gather the courage to respond, still crying against him.

They stood like that for a while. Louis embarrassing himself by crying into Harry, Harry holding him close and rubbing his back to calm the hiccups that came out of him. Every now and then, Harry’s affection would turn up a notch. He kissed Louis’ temples, forehead, wiping away the tears.

When his sobs subsided, Harry pulled away reluctantly.

“Do you want to get back into bed? We can talk about it, if you want.”

Louis realised there was nothing more he wanted. He nodded, closing his eyes.

“Yeah, please. Let’s.”

**

Louis had shared a bed with Harry all the time before the past four years had happened. They’d sleep together, cuddle up to each other’s side and it never used to be awkward. At all. It felt like falling back into a routine when they got under Harry’s covers together.

“Turn around,” Harry mumbled.

Louis obliged, so Harry could pull him flush to his chest. He was the little spoon, for once, and it was a nice change. It provided him the comfort he needed, snuggling into Harry’s arm and sighing in content.

He definitely didn’t miss how Harry kissed him tenderly on the nape of his neck, just beneath his hair but he didn’t comment. Louis wanted to ignore everything that screamed this wasn’t normal and indulge himself. He deserved that.

“How’re you feeling?” Harry asked.

Louis shrugged, nuzzling his head into the pillow.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.”

“I’m just feeling a little… defeated.”

“Want to explain?” Harry offered, the ever constant, loving presence that made Louis relax a little more.

It was unfair and cruel how easy it always was with Harry.

“I don’t know. I was pretending that the Luke situation wasn’t so bad but it just hit me now, more than anything. It’s bad, really bad.”

Harry seemed to be in an agreement because he nodded.

“I’ve only been around for a few weeks..” he started to say. “But I can already see it—it’s not right. It’s abusive behaviour.”

“Is it? He hasn’t ever hit me before…”

“He doesn’t _have_ to,” Harry stressed, shaking his head. He, slowly, turned them around so they were facing each other but wasted no time to circle his arms around Louis, bringing their bodies flush together. “You ever heard of emotionally abusive relationships?”

“I… sort of?”

“Right, well… in emotionally abusive relationship, the abuser nor the victim are sometimes aware of what’s happening. It’s when the abuser is breaking down your self esteem from within, they’re verbal offending you, threatening you, blackmailing you.. Doing everything to break _you_ down. It can be done in a controlling manner, to gain control over you. Luke tries to control you, you realise that?”

“Does he?”

“Not wanting you to come to London? Fair enough, but telling you you can’t go?” Harry raised a brow, eyes staring dead on into Louis’. “That’s a pretty fair signal of control.”

Louis had an idea that things were wrong. That he and Luke weren’t normal, it wasn’t a conventional relationship but hearing Harry cement it into him… it felt real. It made sense. He pondered over what his relationship with Luke was like and starting to draw out individual instances where he had tried to do exactly what Harry was telling him.

“Oh.”

“Oh, indeed.”

Louis sighed as he squeezed his eyes shut, wondering how on earth he had managed to get into this situation.

“I don’t know what to do.”

Harry looked tortured but he didn’t speak immediately. He bought himself time as he stroked Louis’ hair, pulling it back from his face. His fingers curled around his cheekbones, the touch barely grazing his skin but it was there. It was intimate.

“I can’t tell you what to do, Louis. I just know it’s unhealthy and you need to start finding your way out of it.”

“You think Luke won’t change?”

Harry bit his lip. “More like, he _can’t_ change. There’s deeper, underlying issues in Luke if he treats you like that… he needs help, professional medical help.”

“I don’t know anything else than him.”

This time, Harry opted to close his eyes for a second longer. When he exhaled, he was trembling a little.

“Louis… you deserve so much more. You deserve everything life has to offer,” his voice was shaking as he spoke, his fingers pressing down on his collarbones. He pulled the shirt down a little, observing the ‘it is what it is’ tattoo for the first time. His eyes were watery when he continued to speak, fixed on the tattoo rather than making eye contact. “You don’t deserve an asshole who kicks you around, who treats you like you’re a possession, a toy. You deserve someone who’ll see you like an equal, who’ll let you go travelling around the entire fucking world not just London.”

Louis took a deep breath. 

“Harry—”

“I mean it.” He shook his head, not allowing any space for arguments. “Anybody who can’t see how brilliant, how magnificent you are… they don’t deserve you, not one minute of your day. Not one minute of your time.”

He couldn’t find the words to reply to that. Nobody had ever spoken so passionately about Louis before besides his mother.

Harry was looking at him intently, eyes burning into his. They kept the contact for a few moments longer, no words needed to be exchanged between them. Then, Harry’s hands travelled to his chin, holding him still as he pressed their lips together.

The kiss was chaste, slow. Intimate. It was everything he seeked for and everything he didn’t get from Luke. Harry deepened the kiss a few moments later when he realised he wasn’t going to get rejected, pushed away and Louis obliged, humming into his mouth. Harry’s tongue grazed his bottom lip and their tongues met in a wet snog. As Harry’s hands travelled down to his ass, Louis suddenly realised.

Luke.

He couldn’t cheat on Luke.

He jolted away from Harry as fast as the kiss had come, shaking his head as he jumped out of bed.

“Louis—”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“Which we just discussed…”

“I don’t care. I’m still in a commitment, Harry. Jesus Christ.” He ran a hand through his hair, feeling conflicted and torn. 

On one hand, kissing Harry was everything he had dreamt of. On the other hand, it wasn’t worth getting his heart broken. This, whatever it was with Harry, was temporary. It had an expiration date, it was going to be over before it had ever started and Louis didn’t need to get tangled in something that’d only wreck him later.

He grabbed his pillow, walking out of the room and into his room.

It was a sleepless, restless night with Louis tracing his lips over and over, feeling Harry’s lips tingling over his. The sensation was unforgettable as he forced himself to close his eyes.

**

[ One Direction - Infinity](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=26bcRNifIOM)

 

Louis’ little trip with London was over. The next morning, Harry was packing their bags and they were headed back to Holmes Chapel. Zayn opted to go to Bradford instead—claiming he wanted a last few days with his family and Louis realised that meant Harry’s small hiatus was coming to an end.

The drive back was mostly silent. David kept the radio playing in the background but neither of them were in the mood to sing along. Harry seemed lost in a deep train of thought, eyes glued to his iPhone the entire duration of the car journey. Louis opted to stare out of the windows and put The Lumineers on in his headphones.

When they rolled back into Holmes Chapel, David turned to them.

“Who am I dropping off first?”

“Louis,” Harry supplied for him immediately.

He didn’t want to go back home. He didn’t want this little paradise between them to end but there wasn’t anything he could do. David nodded and started driving off towards Louis’ home, keeping the acceleration slow so it could bid them more time. Louis took his headphones off, trying to focus on the quiet bustle in the village.

When he pulled up outside Louis’ house, he was surprised to find Luke already waiting for him there.

When Harry’s eyes settled on what Louis was seeing, his expression turned murderous. He ripped himself out of his seatbelt, apparently ready to fight him with the determined look that was painted over his face.

“No, no, no!” Louis interjected immediately, hands closing over his. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m going to _kill_ —”

“No, don’t be fucking insane, Harry!”

“Are you just going to let him do this? Take control over you, do whatever he likes?”

“I’ll—”

“It’s not acceptable, Louis! I won’t let him treat you like, Jesus fucking Christ!”

They were having a full-on argument, voices raised and David was witnessing it all, probably confused out of his mind as to what was going on. Louis removed his hand like it had burned, shaking his head.

“It’s not your damn fight.”

“Like hell—”

“It _isn’t_ your fight. Go back to disappearing, Harry. Like you always do. I know your hiatus is ending and this… little bubble of happiness we’ve found? I know that goes with it, too. It’s not your fault.”

Harry went slack.

Louis took that moment to jump out of the car, slamming it shut and walking towards Luke.

**

The next morning, Luke was in his bed. They were wrapped up in each other’s arm, their makeup sex had extended for almost the entire night. He was sore and tired, aching for more sleep but opted to get out of bed. He groaned a little, stretching out the crinks in his body as he extracted himself from Luke’s arms.

He wandered downstairs where Johannah was, sipping at her tea and holding a letter in her hand. When her eyes drifted up and noticed Louis, her smile curled downwards some more. He frowned, approaching her.

“What’s wrong, mum?”

Johannah didn’t bother responding. She swallowed loudly, handing over the letter in her hand.

_To Johannah, Louis and sisters -_

_Thank you so much for the past few weeks. It has been a pleasure to get to see you all again and I especially loved meeting Blueberry. I have to go back to touring now but hopefully, I can find tickets for you guys to come see me. Please, do come see me._

_Love,_

_Harry_

Louis reread the words until they burned, putting the letter down. Harry was gone—much sooner than Louis had anticipated, without a single goodbye. Without closure for what had happened the night before. 

He wasn’t going to sweat about it.

He wasn’t going to cry.

Louis had Luke upstairs in his bed, a truly remorseful guy who had apologised over and over last night and promised to change, he had Johannah, his sisters, his dog. He didn’t need Harry, he didn’t.

Louis wasn’t going to cry.


	3. Chapter Three

**3 ½ months later -**

[ Carly Rae Jepsen - When I Needed You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FLkj9zr0-sQ)

 

“Well, well… what is it, Nick? Tell me.”

“Louis…” His voice sounded deflated which instantly made Louis’ hopes die.

He sighed, licking his lips. He didn’t even want Nick to finish his sentence any longer. Louis could feel Johannah and Luke’s eyes on him, waiting for the news. They both looked as hopeful, too—and he was going to let them down.

“It’s fine,” Louis immediately spoke up, shaking his head. He was an idiot for thinking he could even do something like that. “Look, it’s fine. You don’t have to deliver the bad news to me, I get it—”

“You got the contract.”

All the words died in his throat when he heard Nick’s next words, freezing out of shock. He had been pacing the living room from the nerves that kept crawling under his skin, making him desperate for a cigarette. But all of that anxiety, the waiting around for months all boiled down to this exact moment.

Louis got it. He got the damn contract.

He was going to be an author with a published book.

“Wait… what?” Louis said, mostly out of shock because he couldn’t believe what he heard. His eyes drifted to Johannah and Luke, nodding mutely. They both exploded into cheers, hugging each other, which was rare in itself. “Nick, what did you say?”

“I said—you’re going to be an author, Lou! They thought your manuscript was well written, they think you have potential and your target audience is bang on. They want to make a meeting and draw up a contract in writing and then the rest will be history.”

Louis’ heart was hammering right of his chest, hanging onto every word Nick was telling him. He had trusted Nick wholeheartedly to get him far into the industry. He had met Nick after searching online tirelessly for book agents based in Manchester. Nick had been promising and Louis hadn’t wasted a second before calling him up and arranging a meeting.

That was exactly three and half months ago, when he had watched Harry walk away for the second time. He had gotten a chance to get close to Harry again, observe the ins and outs for his life before Harry had left without a single word.

They had kissed and Harry ran, without so much of a goodbye.

The novel he had written that sat in bedside table suddenly gave him muse, gave him inspiration. He had worked on it endlessly, night and day—often calling into his shifts and cancelling last minute so he could remain hunched over his desk, on his laptop—and Louis managed to finish the novel and dust it off.

It went through an intensive editing process with himself and Luke. They read through the pages together, picking out each and every mistake that was written and changing it around. Luke had read the book from start to finish, read every word of anguish on the page and urged Louis to contact a publisher, an agent, anything.

That was how Louis found himself right now, today. Hearing the news that his work was going to get published.

“Fuck!” Louis finally cheered when he realised he had _made_ it. He had done something good in life, something worth remembering it and in a year’s time, he could be a successful, published author. He’d walk through the bookstores and find his work on the shelves. “Are you serious, Nick!?”

“More than serious! We need to arrange a meeting so I can get back to them.”

“Whenever!” He was laughing, giddy off the feeling of life. “Whenever, bro! Whenever. I’m so down. Whenever.”

“Calm down, love,” Nick seemed truly happy too, the brightness of his tone could be detected through the phone. “A week from now at 9:30am, will that be okay?”

“Sure! Where’s the company based?”

“The main branch is in London but they have a smaller building here, in Manchester. I can come pick you up and we’ll go together,” he promised. “This is great news, Louis. You really made it and you should be proud. We’ll go over everything that’ll happen next over the meeting and get the contract in writing.”

Louis nodded, clutching onto his phone and hanging onto every word Nick was saying. There was fatigue clear in his bones, in his body. His eyes were aching from the lack of sleep in the past three months, from working and coming home and writing his manuscript. Now, it all paid off. It was worth it.

“Thank you so much, Nick. I couldn’t fucking do any of this without you! Thank you so much. We have to go out to celebrate, all drinks on me. Please, come to the village again soon. Tomorrow night.”

“Sure. I’ll be there.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course. It’s my job, Louis.” Nick laughed. “I gotta run, okay? But congratulations, I’m happy for you. Heartbreak goes a long way for writers.”

Louis’ heart gave away at that, squeezing painfully in his chest. It _did_ , indeed. He had managed to make a career out of his heartbreak, managed to get a contract from one of the biggest publishing companies in the UK from what he experienced for the past four years due to Harry. He had pawned off his pain and created a fortune for himself.

“Thanks. I’ll see you, Nick.” Louis agreed, hanging up.

He turned to Johannah and Luke who were still sitting eagerly, hands clutched together and waiting for the confirmation of the news from Louis’ mouth himself.

“Your boy is going to be an published author!”

Louis was immediately met by embrace from both Johannah and Luke, both of them jumping on him and wrapping their arms around him. He was startled by the sudden warmth that exploded within his chest, snuggling into both his mother, and boyfriend. They had been incredibly supportive through it all, guiding Louis through it all, listening to his rants late at night.

Louis would be nowhere without them.

Right now, he was content. In this moment, he was content. He didn’t need anything else than his mother, his boyfriend and his contract deal looming over his head like the sun.

**

However, that feeling of indescribable happiness didn’t last long. 

Nick came down to Holmes Chapel the next day, as promised. He looked every bit enthusiastic as he did over the line yesterday, greeting Louis with a hug and a hamper basket of champagne, chocolates and little gifts that meant the world to him. Over time, Louis’ agent had become his own friend and he was grateful for that.

Luke, of course, wasn’t so fond of that.

The past three months had looked promising for their relationship, ever since he came back from London. They barely had any room for arguments, constantly loved up and working on Louis’ novel. He was spending every spare minute he had with Luke, going to his apartment straight after work and travelling back to his home together after the night. Johannah had even began to warm up to Luke, finally—which was a telling sign.

But apparently, that blew over easily.

Once he had put down the hamper basket in the kitchen, Luke wandered in.

“What’s that?” Luke asked, nodding to the cellophane wrapped basket.

“This?” He hummed, oblivious to Luke’s turmoil as he pointed it out. “Nick got it for me.”

He pursued his lips. “A bit weird, innit? An agent gifting you that?”

Louis paused, trying to gauge his boyfriend’s reaction and trying to predict where this conversation was heading so he could stop it before the argument even happened. Today was supposed to be his day, he didn’t want to spend it in a ruined mood.

“Is it really?” Louis mused. “He’s my friend more than agent, y’know.”

“That’s even weirder.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, not finding Luke’s jealousy any bit endearing.

“Look. It’s just chocolates, okay?” He pointed it out, stabbing his finger into the packaging. “Thornton's chocolates. What the hell is your problem?”

“You must be blind, stupid or both.”

“Are you kidding me?”

Luke powered on. “I’m not stupid, though. You may be but get it through your thick skull, I’m not! I see the looks he gives you!”

“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Shut the fuck up, you cunt,” he said boldly, eyes piercing into Louis’ as he pointed at the gift. “This isn’t normal behaviour. You’re not allowed to accept gifts off other men, okay? Especially not men who want to fuck you!”

Louis shook his head, already done with this conversation before it had begun. He wasn’t going to ruin his day. He wasn’t going to let Luke get to him. He had been naive enough to think the past three months had changed them, that the toxic and unhealthy part of their relationship was over. He was wrong, so deadly wrong. Luke could never change.

They were due to arrive at the bar in an hour or so and he wanted to be in an accommodating mood as a host, wanted to spend time with Niall and Liam without crying over his relationship problems.

But before he could walk away to the door, Luke’s hand reached out to halted him. The grip was steel and tight, twisting his skin in a painful manner.

Louis whimpered instantly, trying to draw his arm back.

“Luke… hurts, stop.”

Luke didn’t let up, using the hold to pull him closer.

“I said, you’re _not allowed_ to accept gifts. Okay?”

In a moment of weakness, Louis could only nod. He could only agree and bow down to Luke, did what he wanted from him. Only then did Luke seem satisfied with the answer, nodding as he let go of Louis’ arm.

Louis cradled his arm, resentment coursing through his veins as the turned on his heel and walked away.

 

It was no doubt that the bad mood stayed with him during the time at the bar. It was a beautiful location, a rooftop bar just on the outskirts of Holmes Chapel. The rooftop was decorated like a garden, a lush setting despite the loud music and the bustling environment. It was a luxurious hideaway that Johannah was paying for, for Louis’ treat and in celebration of his book deal.

Louis ordered everybody a round as everyone clinked their glasses together, downing their drinks.

He, himself, held a pint of apple cider, not wanting to go heavy tonight.

One by one, his friends and family came up to him to talk to him about his book deal and congratulate him. Lottie kept hollering about the news, screaming about it at the top of her lungs and telling every passerby. 

“You’re going to get us kicked out, shh.” Louis smiled at his sister, tapping her shoulder.

“It’s a news worth shouting off the rooftops about, quite literally!”

“You flatter me but stop.”

Johannah was a proud mother. She was dressed elegantly, in a long off the shoulder black dress that flowed down effortlessly. She walked around the rooftop with a glass of white wine, talking to every guest that had managed to make it to their last minute celebration. Her eyes twinkled when she talked about Louis, about how proud she was and how she was sure Louis was going to make it far.

It made him emotional to look at so Louis kept his gaze diverted elsewhere, trying not to dwell on how his mother quite literally reduced him to tears just by her pride and her undying love for Louis.

Niall and Liam were conversing with Nick like old friends, making his agent feel welcome as they clinked their pints together and downed it together.

Luke, however, was putting a damper on the entire celebration. He was sulking about the gift hamper in one corner of the bar, seemingly interested in his cell phone as he kept his eyes glued over his iPhone and kept making random calls to people.

Louis didn’t have the energy to argue with him.

He knew there was a bigger, underlying argument waiting. There always was. They had to scream, shout at each other, have Louis cry his eyes out at how pathetically weak he felt around Luke before they came to a truce. That couldn’t happen tonight. Tonight was about him and his achievements and he wasn’t going to let Luke take that away from him.

The venue was stunning and everything was perfect about this moment but Louis’ phone was burning a hole in his pocket.

“Excuse me a moment, love,” Louis excused himself from Lottie, kissing her cheek before getting up from his seat.

[ Harry Styles - From the Dining Table](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ZxF_nA1SxQ)

He noticed Luke’s eyes following him instantly but he didn’t give into it. Louis walked out of the rooftop, down to the street below. He contemplated with himself whether or not he wanted to do this or not. Louis extracted his phone from his pocket, going into his contacts and staring at ‘Harry new’ on his phone.

A month into Harry’s second disappearance, he had sent another postcard. He was touring Europe this time around, had started with France, Paris where the postcard had arrived from. On the postcard, he had left his number and urged any of the Tomlinson’s to feel free to leave him a call, a text—he’d be more than happy to respond.

Louis, obviously, hadn’t called him.

But right now, he wanted nothing more than Harry’s voice to talk him down. He wanted to share the good news with him, wanted to tell him about the book deal and how he had been writing since Harry went away. How he had made a career out of it and how he was doing something he loved, _finally._

Louis reread the numbers until his vision blurred, gathering himself and inhaling before pressing the call button.

He could barely breathe as the line rang, rang… and rang. But no answer. It went to voicemail.

_Leave your message after the tone. Beep._

Louis tried not to address the disappointment that swelled in the pits of his stomach, clutching his phone against his ear as the voicemail service allowed him to leave a message. He might as well. 

“Hey…” Louis said and then laughed watery, remembering how many times he used to do this before Harry had changed his number altogether and had never once returned his calls. “Don’t change your number again, yeah? I won’t bother you too much. I learned my lesson the first time around and trust me, I’m not fond of repeating my mistakes more than once. Trust me.” Louis laughed again but this time, it was weak. He closed his eyes, exhaling as he leaned against the wall. “How’s touring? I don’t know where you are… last time you sent a postcard, you were in Norway. That’s cool.. I always knew you wanted to travel and I think it’s cool that you’re doing that, really. Have I ever told you that? That I’m so fucking proud of you.” He paused, sniffling. He considered, for a moment, telling Harry about the book deal but decided against it. “I miss you. I hate you. You’re never here, you’re not here.”

The voicemail had to be cut short because Niall appeared before him, his lips curled downwards and upon seeing Louis’ state, his expression turned to something pained.

“C’mere, mate. Why’re you crying? Come here.”

Louis hung up. He didn’t have anymore words for Harry and he was sure he wasn’t going to get a response, anyway. He walked over to Niall, still sniffling silently as he fell into Niall’s open arms, snuggling into his best mate.

“What’s wrong, hmm?” Niall asked. His touch was tender and all over as he stroked the nape of Louis’ neck, his back but his voice sounded desperate. 

Louis exhaled. He shook his head.

“I’m fine. I swear, I’m okay. I’m just emotional, I’m fine.”

Niall didn’t seemed convinced but he didn’t press the matter, only whispering ‘shh’ into his ear and trying to comfort him in the best way he could. It helped and Louis felt his heartbeat resuming to normal, going lax in Niall’s arm.

Once he had cleaned up his face with a napkin, Niall guided them back to the bar.

He didn’t think about Harry again through the night.

**

Harry didn’t call back, not a sound. Louis didn’t feel disappointment, didn’t feel much of anything because it was what he had expected. He hadn’t expected a reply of any kind. Harry was a busy man, he was touring and he was putting on elaborate shows for fans every night. Everyday, he was in a different city, different country. How could Louis expect him to gather time to reply to his measly, mess of a voicemail where he cried?

Yet four days later, Louis received post in the mail.

Two postcards. One addressed to the family, one only to Louis.

He clutched both of the envelopes, trying to ignore the pathetic telltale thumping of his heart against his chest. It wasn’t fair how quickly just the mention of Harry made him feel. He opened the postcard with shaky hands, pulling out the letter inside.

_‘To Louis,_

_I didn’t want to call back or text, it felt insincere. I cried listening to the voicemail._

_I’m sorry. Louis, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how else to express how sorry I am and I know no words, no actions can make up for what I’ve done to you. I’m sorry I’m not a more stable friend. I’m sorry I kissed you before I left and messed everything up, I’m really sorry._

_I’ve attached tickets to Sweden. I have a show there in a few nights. I left some for your siblings, too and Jo. Of course. Please, come. Please. I need to talk to you._

_I’m proud of you, baby. Always._

_Yours,_

_Harry xxx_

Louis didn’t realise he was crying by the time he finished reading the letter. He wasn’t sure if it was from joy or from despair. Harry could send all the letters he wanted, he could apologise all he wanted but it did nothing to fill the hole in Louis’ heart. The pain he felt and still felt, the burden he carried around with him.

Without thinking, Louis ripped up the tickets and threw it in the bin.

If Harry felt genuinely bad, if he wanted to fix things and if he was as proud as he claimed he was—he could make the trip, himself. Louis wasn’t going to keep seeking Harry out.

**

Publishing a book was much more complicated than Louis had anticipated. He had thought it’d be a smooth ride and he was definitely proven wrong when he had arrived at the meeting with Nick and a lawyer who’d be able to get the best plan for Louis. They sat around a building in Manchester, overlooking the busy city as they negotiated for a few hours before Louis finally came to an agreement about the ins and outs for his own book. He had never realised how little control he’d had over the small details such as the book cover, the production—the company mostly took over that to ensure the book would actually sell.

But the company reassured they were eager to form a good relationship with Louis and work with him rather than against him in the following year. Louis may have had lost most of his manufacturing rights but it was still his words, his work at the end of the day and his name was going to go on the front cover. Nothing else mattered.

It was when he was on his way home from the meeting, driving his Yaris and he had turned on the radio when he heard the news.

It was Gordon, a regular on BBC radio who was discussing the newest scandals that were just rolling in. It disgusted Louis how little privacy celebrities had, each part of their lives broadcasted across every media outlet to be speculated over. It was a life Louis never wanted to lead himself, content with the little bubble he lived in. For now.

It was only when Gordon started to talk about Harry that Louis’ eyes widened, turning to the radio and turning it up as he swallowed, staring down at the motorway.

“Harry Styles…” Gordon said, the ladies on the radio show with him letting out fits of giggles like it was the most amusing name they had ever heard before. “So, what do we think of him?”

One of the girls spoke up. “He’s bloody fit, ain’t he?”

“Just my type!” Another one piped in.

“Well.. have you heard the news, though?” Gordon continued, even sounding smug and it took all self control within Louis not to drive down to BBC studios right this instant and punch whoever the hell Gordon was right on the jaw. “He apparently _attacked_ a paparazzi at the airport, has anybody heard about that?” The girls all said ‘no’, which prompted Gordon to finish his story. “So, apparently. He landed in JFK for a trip to visit a girl he had been seeing and the paparazzi was waiting for him. Words were exchanged and _apparently_ , Harry struck them. There’s video footage but.. It’s blurry and hard to judge.”

Louis clenched his jaw together, panic rising in his chest. Harry hitting another human being, nonetheless, a paparazzi? It seemed foreign for Louis to even consider. Harry was always considerate, loving of other people and gave people, who didn’t even deserve it, the most basic human respect.

He’d never, in his wildest dreams, hit somebody else.

Gordon kept going on about the ‘exclusive’ story of Harry hurting the paparazzi, prompting to websites that had the video online so everybody could draw their own conclusions about what happened. That irked Louis. Gordon was practically spreading the bad news, encouraging people to talk shit about him.

It took every ounce of self control for Louis not to dial BBC’s number for Gordon’s radio show and curse down the line. But he had a feeling it wouldn’t be appreciated and most likely, he’d get in trouble for doing so.

As soon as he turned up at the house, he ignored Johannah and Lottie’s questioning gaze. He picked out a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it up and skipping into the garden. Blueberry was running around, dutifully coming up to Louis.

He leaned down and petted his dog, a wave of anxiety passing through him. Blueberry seemed to notice, though as he whined and rubbed his head against Louis’ leg.

“It’s fine, baby. It’s fine.” He reassured his dog with a wavering smile.

Blueberry, however, sensed it wasn’t fine after all. He didn’t leave Louis’ side and when Louis sat down on the chairs, toying with his phone and debating what to do—Blue remained devotedly by his side, panting and trying to comfort him in anyway a dog could do so. Blue’s presence was definitely helping though so he kept a hand running through his fur, petting him and trying to ease the dog’s fears, too.

Finally, he decided to seek out the video of Harry.

It didn’t take long to find because, of course it didn’t. Because of course everybody wanted to jump onto any bad news they could find about celebrities, speculate about it and ignore all the good things they did. They only sold the bad parts, the scandals, the rumours. It’s what everybody was interested over.

The video was every bit disturbing as Louis had envisioned it’d be. Harry walked out of the arrivals with a pretty, petite blonde glued to his side. He kept his head down, walking quickly with a hoodie over his head to conceal him.

It didn’t seem to work, though. The paparazzi was right in his face, asking questions about how his tour was going, who the blonde was, what Harry was doing. It was only when the man made a derogatory comment towards the blonde girl that Harry looked up, looking livid.

“Her _name_ is Nicola and she’s a fucking human being, man. Get the fuck out of my face!”

The man, however, did the exact opposite. He continued to make comments, get closer to Harry and when Harry tried to block his face, it accidentally struck the man. The paparazzi seemed to run with it, though because he shoved Harry hard enough to stumble backwards, sending Nicola to the ground. When Harry regained himself, he looked _furious_ as he charged towards the man and—

That was it.

The video cut off, supposedly the man’s camera had gone dead in that moment but it went without saying that Harry attacked him.

Louis’ stomach churned painfully. He knew how bad this looked, could practically imagine Zayn working hard right this instant to repair the damage that had been done. He could imagine Harry pacing the room, crying, wailing about his image.

Without thinking, Louis dialled Harry’s number. He hoped it wouldn’t go to voicemail because for once, he didn’t want to speak to a dialing tone and rather, he needed to know Harry was okay. That it wasn’t anything that’d permanently damage his career, his future. He needed to hear some reassurance.

Thankfully, Harry did pick up.

“Lou..” He said instantly as he had picked up, voice sounding shaky and thick.

Louis realised he had been crying and he had to swallow the lump in his throat, eyes blurring with his own tears.

“Hey, hey. Are you okay?”

“No,” he sounded absolutely distraught. “Fuck, no. I didn’t do anything, Louis!”

Louis’ chest constricted dangerously. “I know, darling.”

“I didn’t touch him, at all! He shoved me and when I charged towards him, I didn’t hurt him! I just held him by the collar, making him back off and he… he fucking _lied_ , and Zayn’s so mad at me and I’m in fucking New York City out of all _damn places_.”

Louis was tempted to fly there to him right now, to hold Harry tightly and kiss away all his sorrows. It was pathetic that even after months of silence, he still felt a need to extract every single misery from Harry and swallow it whole so the other boy never had to feel it. But he was reminded that Harry was there with Nicola, the girl he had been apparently seeing and Louis’ presence was probably not expected nor wanted.

“Isn’t the girl… um, Nicola with you?”

There was a pause.

“No.. she’s not my girl, like the article said she was.”

“Oh.”

“It’s a stupid publicity stunt, Louis,” he sounded tired when he said it, tone weary. “She’s a new, upcoming model and needs some… noise around here, she’s also Zayn’s friend and he owes her a favour. So here I am.”

“That’s fucked.”

Harry laughed bluntly. “S’business.”

“Tough business, then.”

He hummed. “You never came to Sweden.”

Right. There were going to talk about this, then. They hadn’t spoken on the phone for a long time, Louis couldn’t even recall the last time. The last time he had even attempted to was the night of the celebration when he had left a tearful, heartfelt voicemail and had been mostly ignored. That had been a week ago.

“No, I didn’t.” Louis affirmed.

“Any reason why? Were you busy?”

How could Louis put this nicely without hurting Harry’s feelings? Did he want to rip open the wound and discuss it openly over the phone? Probably not. They were, once again, avoiding the elephant in the room and Louis was too accustomed to it by now to complain about it.

“Work.”

Harry hummed again but this time, it was half heartedly and not seeming convinced at all.

“Are you okay?” Louis pressed on.

“No, not really. You?”

“I’m just worried about you.”

“Don’t be.”

There was more he wanted to ask, to know. But he knew it wasn’t his space to do. Louis knew that their friendship that had rekindled when Harry had returned to Holmes Chapel was only temporary and right now, that was what they were. Where they were at. That was the harsh reality of their relationship. It couldn’t be salvaged anymore, it was always going to have awkward silences, long months without seeing each other—years, even.

“Okay. Well, I gotta go then. Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I am.”

“Take care,” Louis mumbled and hung up before he could do something stupid like confess how much he missed Harry, burying his phone under his thigh and returning his attention to Blue and his half finished cigarette.

**

It was Louis’ birthday and he was fucking twenty-six. That, alone, was enough for him to want to sleep in on his birthday and not move from his bed. But Luke seemed to have other plans, waking him up at the crack of dawn and pressing kisses down his temple, his cheeks which made Louis sniff a little, stirring awake.

He groaned from the fatigue, rubbing his eyes with one of his fists. When Louis adjusted to the brightness of the room, he saw Luke sitting in bed before him, a grin plastered over his face, looking like he had received the best news ever.

“What’s gotten you so happy?” Louis mumbled, turning so he switched side, away from Luke. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so fucking happy.”

“It’s your birthday!”

“Yeah, no. No thanks, no reminders.”

Luke giggled, sounding genuinely… happy, airy. Light. It was unusual from Luke who often held himself together carefully, never allowed his guard down around other people and never expressed feelings so openly. It was surprising and nonetheless, it was for _Louis_ , which only made the situation stranger for him.

“You’re twenty-six, my love,” Luke mumbled, kissing his jawline and then continuing to press kisses over his skin, over his neck where he lingered for a moment, sucking on the flesh to leave a faint trace of his territory. “It’s time to get up.”

Eventually, Luke was able to coax him out of bed. They took a lazy shower together, soaping each other up and massaging each other’s scalp. Somehow, unsurprisingly, Luke pressed Louis against the wall and ate him out. In response, Louis got on his knees and gave Luke a luxurious blowjob. When they got out, they were loved up and couldn’t stop touching each other, hands tangled together as they stumbled into their clothes together.

“What’s your plans for me today?” Louis asked as they ate breakfast together, which Luke had kindly prepared for him.

He hummed as he circled around the kitchen, putting the fresh plate of eggs to the centre of the table.

“Nothing. My plans for you are tomorrow, actually. Today, your mother is taking you out and I’m not invited.”

Louis’ face fell. “You’re not invited?”

“Nope.”

“What, why?”

Luke seemed bothered about the prospect of not being invited but he tried not to dwell on it, like he was trying to downplay how much it really hurt him. He shrugged as he finally sat down besides Louis, pouring himself a glass of orange juice.

“Jo claims it’s a family thing and I don’t mind, really. I get to have you all for myself tomorrow and we can celebrate properly. I might even have a surprise for you.”

Louis furrowed his brows. “Is it really a surprise if you tell me it is?”

“Oh, shut up!” He snapped playfully, picking up a piece of the potato wedges he had warmed up for the breakfast and threw it at Louis. 

They ended up throwing bits at food at each other rather than eating it. Somewhere along the line, Luke ended up pulling Louis into his lap and they spent the next few—that felt like a lifetime with how slow, how careful they were with each other, like they were discovering each other all over again—just making out. Louis got more desperate as the minutes passed, rolling his hips impatiently over Luke who in response, moaned into his mouth.

“Oh, fucking shit!”

Louis was startled, interrupted from his heavy make out session to see Lottie and Fizzy standing in the doorway, looking immensely unimpressed.

Luke let out a laugh, burying his head into Louis’ neck, flushing.

Louis extracted himself off his boyfriend, his cheeks blushed and his hair tousled as he tried to appear made up. He ran a hand down his front, smoothing out his crinkled shirt.

“You devils,” Louis mumbled, smiling at them as he gestured to the table. “Come, have breakfast.”

Before he could get another word out, though—he was met by an embrace by both his sisters. They jumped on him, circling their arms around him and holding him close. Louis’ heart warmed instantly at the weight of two of his sister’s, welcoming their affection and kissing the top of their heads.

“Happy birthday, Louis,” Lottie said, followed by Fizzy repeating the same words.

“Thank you, thank you. Sit, sit. Come. Where’s mum?”

“She’s just showering. She’ll be down in a bit.”

“And the twins?”

“Getting ready for school.”

Louis hummed, walking to the fridge and getting out the jar of cold water. He poured a glass in for everyone, refilling his own and then sat down besides Luke again. For some reason, Luke seemed more than okay with PDA today—when he usually wasn’t—and intertwined their fingers together, resting it on the table.

Johannah stumbled down not long after followed with the twins. They all hugged him and promised presents would be exchanged tonight at the pub they’d be celebrating at, which Louis was more than okay with.

Luke took his leave after a while, claiming he had to go and get ready for work. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” He mumbled against Louis’ lip as he kissed him once, twice.

Louis nodded, feeling high off the attention his boyfriend was readily pouring onto him.

“Tomorrow.” He affirmed.

As soon as Luke was gone, Johannah hummed a little as she walked around the kitchen and cleaned up the mess that had been left. It was clear his mother had words to say about Luke and he’d appreciate if she just came outright and said it, expressed how she felt. He’d never try to downplay the importance of Johannah’s words, ever.

But his mother was stubborn. She skirted around how she felt about Luke, never wholeheartedly addressing the issues. Louis suspected it was because she didn’t want to ruin anything, didn’t want to jeopardise Louis’ ‘happiness’, and his relationship.

But her clear disapproval hung heavy and clear in the air, with both Luke around and not around.

Louis didn’t argue, though. He didn’t have the energy on his birthday so he didn’t indulge her. Instead, he grabbed second servings and then afterwards, he helped Johannah drive the twins to school. He sent them off, promising they’d celebrate tonight and when he got back in the car, Johannah had a look in her eyes.

“Mum…” He sighed, turning down the radio as he twisted his torso in the passenger seat. “Just say what you want to say. This… beating around the bush isn’t doing anybody favours.”

Johannah pursued her lips, gaze fixed on the road.

“There’s nothing to say.”

“Really? Because I see the way you look at Luke.”

“Do you blame me?”

Louis bit his lip. “I don’t know what he’s done to you.”

“Oh dear. He’s not done anything to me, nothing. But I’m not blind, I see what he does to _you_.”

And honestly, Louis wasn’t in the mood to argue about Luke with every person in his life. They were insistent and quick to blame Luke as the abusive man. It had been implanted into Louis’ mind over and over by everyone, even Harry who had barely spent the better quarter half of the past four years here. He had been here for fifteen minutes before he all but branded Luke as an abusive boyfriend.

Louis was sick and tired of it.

“Whatever.” He muttered, not dwelling any harder on the subject.

**

The pub birthday celebration was rather beautiful. It was a breezy night but not unbearably so, it was comfortable and lovely. Johannah had rented out the local pub’s garden, had decked out the picnic tables in table cloths and centrepieces, balloons all around the garden. It was beautiful and Johannah had really made the venue her own, decorated it with a personal touch. Louis was touched.

As soon as he had entered, he had been reduced to tears.

“Oh, mum…” Louis whispered, immediately pulling her into a hug and kissing her on the top of her head. “You didn’t need to do this. This is so lovely. Oh, mum.”

Johannah seemed to be equally as emotional. When she laughed, it was wavering like she was on the border between crying and keeping herself together. Her arms tightened around Louis, holding him close.

“It’s all for my boy, darling. I’d do it anyday over and over.”

Louis gave her one more squeeze and a promise he’d pay her back for it all before the guests started piling in. Lottie acted as a co-host, walking around with a glass of champagne and welcoming everyone in. For an ordinary, small pub—they sure managed to make it feel posh, even the guests were dressed in their finest clothes.

Louis exchanged words with family relatives he hadn’t seen in a while, wondering how Johannah had managed to bring his aunt down. 

Niall and Liam came, Nick included and they all shared a table together, ordering an abundance of food and forcing Louis to join him. He sat with his friends, bantering with them back and forth as they fed Louis one by one. It was cheesy and unnecessary but Louis didn’t refuse, giving into their useless, shameless suggestions.

Then, Johannah gathered everyone’s attention by clinking her flute.

“Guys, guys!” She said, standing up on a chair so she was on a pedestal and higher than everybody. “Thank you all for coming to Louis’ birthday. I wanted something intimate and small with all of Louis’ close loved ones—I appreciate everyone making the trip down here! Now, if we could all gather around, we’re going to cut Louis’ cake.”

Louis’ heart gave out a little, beating against his chest. They got him a cake. Johannah had really gone all out to make his twenty-sixth birthday special and he wasn’t sure how he was ever going to thank her for it.

Everyone started to move towards the centre of the garden, where a table had been set out and all the lights went out in anticipation for the cake to be brought up. Louis noticed Lottie and Fizzy, both, anxiously glancing towards the entrance of the pub, staring at each other and shrugging.

“What’s going on, girls?” Louis questioned, furrowing his brows.

They both looked like deers caught in the headlights, eyes widening comically as they started to shake their head and come up with an excuse that Louis didn’t even bother listening to. Because something else caught his eyes, his ears—his whole, undivided attention.

“Harry’s in the house!” Somebody yelled.

Instantly, everyone erupted into cheers. Louis’ ears coloured red as he glanced up and surely enough, there Harry was. He was ascending down from the pub steps, into the garden with a bright, dazzling smile that was contagious. It really was, Louis’ own lips twitched and all the previous anger that he was holding for Harry dispersed in that moment.

Because, Harry was here. 

Harry was dressed in a velvet light blue suit, looking spectacular and effortless. His curly hair had been pushed back, his green eyes glistening as he basked in the attention everybody was giving him. In his hand, he held a gift bag which Louis safely assumed was his birthday present.

But all he could focus on right now was on the fact that Harry was _here_ , he wasn’t in New York, or L.A or any other European country he had been currently touring. Harry was here, in person—at Louis’ birthday party.

Johannah was embracing him, kissing his cheeks as he circled his arms around her and held her close.

Louis couldn’t move from his spot, frozen in shock as he watched Harry make his rounds. He greeted every guest, whether he knew them or not, and shook hands with everybody. Harry made his way over to Louis’ sister who seemed over the moon to see him, exploding onto him and Harry chuckled, looking in his element as he hugged each one and talked to them like he had never been away.

It was mesmerising, really—to watch Harry fit into his family so easily, like he had never been away. Like the past four years had never happened.

“Where’s the birthday boy?” Harry asked, scanning across the garden.

Louis flushed, ducking his head a little as he waved his hand.

“M’here.”

Harry’s face broke out in a grin, a smile that had been specially reserved just for him. He cut across the small space of the garden, stopping before him. They were just a few inches apart, standing face-to-face each other after _months_ since Harry had gone back to touring. It had felt like no time had passed, though, now that they were here before each other.

Louis knew he had the right to be mad, to hold a tiny bit of resentment. But with Harry in front of him, he couldn’t address a single negative thought that was processing through him.

“Happy birthday…” Harry finally spoke after a long, long moment of just looking at each other without exchanging any words. He held up the gift bag he had in his hand. “For you.”

“You didn’t need to.”

“I wanted to.”

Louis took the bag off him, not glancing inside just yet. Instead, he pulled Harry into a hug. He was still having trouble to believe this was real, that Harry was really here and it wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. He melted in Harry’s arms, the anger he had held slowly rolling off him.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he mumbled in Harry’s neck, not wanting to let down.

Harry must’ve noticed because he didn’t make move to let go of Louis, either. Instead, he held him closer and tighter.

“It was a surprise. You weren’t supposed to know.”

“When’d you get here?”

“Last night.”

Harry actually sounded smug about it, too like he had pulled off the biggest plan of the year. Louis let out a chuckle in disbelief, finally pulling himself off Harry reluctantly. He was sure the happiness that swirled in the pits of his stomach couldn’t be real, could it? Every time Harry was around, it evoked the same response within him every single time without fail.

It was pathetic.

“I can’t believe you!” Louis’ voice was higher now, the softness being replaced with something else as he slapped Harry’s shoulder lightly. “You didn’t call me, text me! Lottie and Fizzy knew, didn’t they? They were looking at the door _constantly_.”

Harry was grinning so wide, it had to be painful.

“Yeah, yeah. They helped me plan it all out, on how to surprise you.”

“Such devils, they are!”

Harry rolled his eyes. “We can talk later. But Jo’s calling us over for the cake cutting now, c’mon.”

Louis nodded and they walked over to the centre of the garden where everybody had gathered around. The cake on the table nearly reduced Louis to tears, the surprises hitting him one after the other. It was a large, twelve inch cake and it had collage of Louis’ baby pictures plastered on top with vanilla frosting.

Everybody was speculating and laughing, snapping pictures of the cake and Louis couldn’t help but let his own bubble of content laughter escaped him.

“Which menace thought of this idea?!”

Liam looked awfully sheepish, standing in the back and ducking his head down so Louis automatically assumed it was him, kissing his teeth and promising to get Liam back for it later. But regardless, it was an adorable concept and he adored the cake that Liam had thought of.

Then, everybody started to sing him happy birthday. 

It was rather beautiful how everyone harmonised together, their perfect voices blending into one another as they all gathered here purely for Louis. It was a humbling thought and he felt blessed, he felt loved. He was high off the feeling. 

Johannah cut off a slice of the cake, feeding Louis as everyone took pictures of the moment. One by one, they walked up to the table and fed him a piece. 

By the time it was Harry's turn, he was full and feeling a little sick. 

“No more, please.” He pleaded. 

Harry had a devilish look in his eyes, though. He simply shook his head and much to Louis’ relief, only took a tiny bit. 

“Open up.”

Louis glared at him playfully but took the cake into his mouth, posing as people snapped pictures. Harry pulled him into another embrace right there and then for no other reason than he could, he moved his hands over Louis, whatever inch he could reach.

Louis didn't fight it. He allowed it, liked Harry touching him all over. Maybe he was a little buzzed off the champagne he had kept sipping all night or maybe now that Harry was here, he had forgotten all about his absent boyfriend. 

But that was what Harry did—nobody existed when he did. 

The night was exquisite and followed in the same manner. Louis was dragged around to every guest and with each person, he shared a glass of champagne. He was relatively tipsy off the expensive drink, having a laugh with everyone he was coming across, relaxed and in his element. 

Johannah and the girls gifted him a few presents for his birthday which he cried when he opened. They were sentimental gifts: a photo album his mother created, a few adidas shirts Lottie was certain he'd love. He thanked them all and then found Harry sitting on a table on his own, hands around a glass and eyes glistening. 

His chest tightened a little as he walked over to the table. 

“Hey, you alone?” Louis asked, sliding into the opposite picnic break. 

Harry looked up to him, smile not easing off his face. 

“Yeah, yeah. I talked to everyone and just wanted some alone time. Your mates are amazing—Liam and Niall?”

“Yeah.”

“Great lads. Had a laugh with them.”

Louis nodded. “Yeah, that's them.”

“Want another drink?”

Louis should say no. He was already halfway towards being drunk, had been sipping at champagne flutes the minute he had walked in. He hasn't been free of alcohol at all. But with harry’s wide, hopeful eyes—he simply couldn't say no. 

“Sure, yeah.”

Harry returned with ciders for both of them, passing it around as they eased into a conversation together. Louis was supposed to be mad at him but apparently, that didn't matter at all right now. Because Harry was here, he was present and he had a dazzling smile plastered over his lips. 

He talked about touring, hesitantly so. He talked about each European country he had the chance to see and how blessed he was. Louis took the phone off him when he was given so, flicking through the endless albums of pictures and the unfamiliar faces all huddled up together with Harry and Zayn. 

There was an entire family associated with Harry that took care of him when he was touring, one that Louis had no clue of. 

Then, shots were passed around and they both edged for them immediately. 

Two shots later, Louis was definitely drunk. He was definitely not in his senses much anymore, dancing around the garden but always ending up in Harry’s presence, around him.

“Care for a dance?” Harry asked. 

It wasn't a dancing environment. Definitely not. But Louis couldn’t deny him a single thing, would always be soft hearted for Harry and never skirt around any demands he had. Harry had his hand out for Louis to take and he did, letting him guide them to the centre of the garden around the patch of grass.

Louis felt giddy with contentedness, wouldn’t change a single thing about the interactions he had been sharing with Harry all night, wouldn’t change a single thing about how the entire night had played through.

Harry pulled Louis flush against his body, arm circling around his waist.

Louis’ cheeks flushed at the sudden contact, having not expected to be so close to the other boy. Harry seemed confident in himself, eyes glistening and lips twitched into a smile. There wasn’t a hint of shame displayed on his face, sure of himself as he started to sway along to the music slowly.

He reached over for Louis’ hand, entwining their fingers together and adding a touch of intimacy to their dance.

Louis noticed people standing nearby, watching them with eager, wide eyes. People who had known Harry previously, before his fame, knew exactly how close the two of them had been. They had grown up together and they were obnoxiously loud about it. Louis also saw how Johannah had her phone out, snapping pictures.

If Luke was here, he’d be throwing a tantrum, dragging Louis away.

But Luke wasn’t here. Harry was with his beautiful face, his soft eyes, his warm body and Louis couldn’t do anything but follow to his tune.

They swayed around the garden slowly, hand in hand. Louis rested his head against Harry’s shoulder after a moment, willing his heart race to slow down.

“You okay?” Harry whispered to him.

“Just… missed this, I guess.”

It wasn’t like they used to slow dance in the middle of a pub garden before, it was a first for them. But he missed Harry in general—being close to him, being near to him and listening to him talk, missed his warmth and the weight of his body. He had been so used to having Harry every single day, everywhere around him and now, he had to do with small doses of Harry whenever he got a chance.

Harry, however, seemed to be in an agreement. He just hummed thoughtfully, snuggling further into Louis’ body.

“Me too.”

“How long are you staying this time?”

He shrugged. “Let’s not, please.”

That was something Louis would agree with, this time. He didn’t want to argue about Harry leaving again, didn’t even want to think about it. They continued to dance with their bodies pushed up against each other, whispering small nothing’s in each other’s ears until two songs had passed and a more upbeat song came on.

Everyone got around the centre of the garden and started to dance. Harry pulled away and his expression had shifted to something unreadable, eyes darker. They adjusted to the pace of the music easily, Harry letting go of their hands and instead, landing on his waist. He squeezed Louis’ skin, pulling him taut as he started to roll his hips against Louis.

It was… not what Louis was expecting. At all. He was experiencing whiplash from how quickly the atmosphere had changed effortlessly. It took him a moment to catch up, meeting Harry’s eyes that were covered with lust.

“H-Harry…”

“C’mon.” Was all he said.

They danced on each other like they were at the club, shameless and not a care in the world about who was looking. Harry was confident of his body and had no problem taking control of the situation, rolling his hips expertly onto Louis and gripping his waist hard enough to leave marks of fingerprints if there was no material in the way. Louis was a slave under Harry’s hands and gaze, unable to do anything but follow his lead.

At one point, it looked like Harry was leaning in for a kiss. Louis froze, unable to react and shut off the part of his brain that was begging for it.

It didn’t happen, though.

Harry simply continued to dance and Louis took it up a notch, shutting off the rational side of his brain. He turned around so his back was pressed up against Harry’s crotch, grinding his ass back on him. Harry moaned a little under his breath, pants coming out heavier as he gripped Louis’ ass and squeezed roughly. There were putting on a show for anybody who could see and not a single part of Louis cared.

Harry reached over to touch his back, pressing down so Louis was effectively bent over for him.

Louis couldn’t deny his cock twitching uncomfortably in his tight jeans, growing more and more aroused by the minute because of the situation. They had _never_ done anything like this before and it was like every part of Louis’ brain was switching off and abiding, accepting everything it wanted from Harry.

“Please..” Louis whimpered when he was sure he could come right in his pants.

The music came to an end though. Louis straightened back up and if it was any reassurance, it was clear Harry was hard too. The bulge was prominent in his jeans and he was biting his lip, eyes dark.

“More drinks?”

“Yeah.” Louis agreed.

The rest of the night, Louis was pulled up close to Harry’s side as they wandered through the garden. One by one, guests started to take their leave and they stood together by the exit, bidding everyone farewell. Somewhere along the interactions, Harry’s hand ended up on his waist, tucking him in closer and Louis didn’t have the energy to argue about it. Instead, he accepted the warmth of it.

When it was just Louis’ family left, Harry leaned in and whispered.

“Want to come back to mine?”

Louis knew the implication behind those words, knew what they meant and where it could potentially lead to. Yet, he was unable to do anything about it. Couldn’t stop it even if he wanted to.

He simply nodded.

He said goodbye to his family, informing them that he was going back to Anne’s for the night. That seemed to please Johannah to no end, bright smile as she nodded, kissing him on the cheeks and expecting him back tomorrow morning.

They walked back to Harry’s childhood home, side by side as their hands bumped together. It was a chilly night, the temperature had dropped a few degrees since the party had started and Louis shivered as he hunched up his shoulders. He was shaking with anticipation, wondering what was to come next.

As soon as they were back inside, Harry took them up to their room. Louis entered, glancing around as he looked around. Harry closed the door behind him, bedrooms eyes staring straight at him.

“Where’s Anne—”

The question was cut right out of him though. Harry didn’t give him a chance to finish his sentence, didn’t give a chance to do much of anything else. He seemed eager and sure of what he wanted, surging forward and pressing their lips together. Louis gasped in surprise as soon as their lips met. He had been expecting this the minute they had started dancing but…

Harry pushed him up against the door, his head meeting the back with a dull thud that sent a spark of pain through him. But before he could even address it, Harry’s lips were on his again. It was desperate and it was rough, nails digging into Louis’ skin and kiss bruising.

“Need, need—” Harry stuttered, unable to form a coherent sentence.

Louis didn’t make him reply, simply kissed him again. The kiss was deepened by Harry, his tongue grazing Louis’ bottom lip until he was granted access. He started to roll his hips on Louis, seeking out any sort of contact.

Louis had never imagined they’d be here, rutting against each other like teenagers, desperate for some sort of relief.

Harry’s hand landed on Louis’ jeans as he worked on getting it off, the buttons fiddling in his nimble fingers. Louis lifted his hips a little, guiding him as the jeans came down and the boxers not long after. His cock was half-hard, had remained in the same state most of the night since Harry had started dancing on him.

Harry’s eyes glistened with lust, his orbs mostly black from ‘want’ as he licked his lips.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he informed Louis, pressing their lips together again as Louis repeated the motions so Harry was clad, boxers and jeans off and scattered across the floor.

Their shirts came off next as they struggled to get each other onto the bed without breaking apart the kiss, eager hums and sounds escaping them. Harry gracefully threw him onto the bed, climbing on top of Louis and connecting their lips again. This time, there was more intent behind it—dirty and desperate, exchanging spit as their cocks rubbed together, hard and aching in interest.

“Please,” Louis pleaded, eyes falling shut due to the friction.

Harry only nodded, didn’t need to say anything else.

There was no foreplay, no build up. Years and years of sexual tension, of leaving and returning contributed to all of that. Harry seemed to know the way around his childhood room despite having left it all those years ago, opening the bedside drawer and picking out his packet of lube.

“Are you clean?” Harry asked, eyes softening just slightly.

Louis paused, wondering whether or not he wanted to disclose that information with Harry.

“Never fucked raw with Luke. M’clean.” He confirmed.

It was obvious where Harry’s mind was going with this, a thumb stroking Louis’ cheekbones tenderly. He shifted forward, no space between their bodies as he leaned down, kissing him on the lips.

“Can I come inside of you, Louis?”

He groaned at the requests, eyes falling shut and raising his hips in desperate need for some friction. It was enough answer but he still confirmed it, still nodded his head and whispered out a lewd ‘yes, please.’

Harry took his time. He kissed Louis, hands stroking over his cock but always stopping right before Louis could reach his climax. His hands wandered over Louis’ body, familiarising himself with each inch, kissing Louis all over. He was dragging each moment out and giving Louis just enough to drive him crazy.

Louis was desperate and panting, pliant and eagerly awaiting for Harry’s next move each time he eased off.

“Please, Harry,” Louis begged.

Harry smirked. “Please, what?”

“Fuck me, please.”

“All you had to do was ask.”

With that, he slicked up two of his fingers with lube. He traced the fingers around Louis’ hole, not pushing in, teasing him.

“Babe…” Louis whimpered, not used to getting teased. It was always so straight-forward with Luke, always fucking, coming and over. There was never elaborate, drawn out foreplay, there was never any teasing. “C’mon.”

“Shh,” Harry looked pained, almost. He pushed his index finger in just slightly, leaning down to kiss his inner thighs. “Lemme appreciate you. You’re gorgeous.”

It was ridiculous how much Louis liked praise, thrived off him. When Harry gave him exactly that, he preened under the attention and tried to move into Harry’s move. Harry, on the other hand, only shook his head and pinned his hips down, pushing his fingers in further.

It was intimate and tender, a startlingly contrast to their eagerness when they were dancing. Harry took his sweet time, fucking Louis open with his index finger and swallowing every sound that escaped from his mouth by sealing it with a kiss.

When Louis asked for more, Harry gave him exactly that. He added another finger, scissoring Louis open and then, added another digit. Three fingers inside, Harry started to finally pick up the pace. He fucked Harry open, fighting against the friction as he sucked lightly, barely there bruises into Louis’ inner thighs.

“M’ready,” Louis panted breathlessly, eyes falling shut. “Need your dick inside of me, please, Harry.”

Harry nodded, looking like he was having an out of body experience.

“You’ll get, baby. I promise.”

He grabbed the lube bottle again, slicking up his mostly hard cock. He gave himself a few more tugs to his full hardness, groaning a little before he rubbed his cock over Louis’ rim. He teased some more and Louis didn’t complain, just took it and eyes flying shut.

After a moment or so, Harry started to push into him slowly—inch by inch. Despite having being prepped, the stretch was still more and it sort of burned. Louis closed his eyes shut, letting out a small gasp as he grabbed a hold of Harry’s forearm, prompting him down.

They kissed intensely, tongues intertwining as they tasted each other. Harry took his time, inching into Louis slowly before finally, he bottomed out. 

“Harry…” Louis moaned out loud, eyes flying shut. “Fuck.”

Harry looked equally in awe and he didn’t waste any time before he started to thrust into Louis. He started off slow, allowing the both of them to get used to the sudden change in their dynamic, the drag of Harry’s heavy, hard cock inside of him. It was intimate as they kissed, hands wandering over each other as Harry fucked him like there was nothing else he’d rather do right now.

“I’ve always wanted this,” Harry admitted, voice barely audible but he wasn’t really addressing Louis—he was mostly talking to himself.

Regardless, the confession made Louis moan a little.

“God. You feel so, so good.” Louis told him.

“You too, baby. So tight.”

Once they had adjusted to the stretch, Harry picked up the pace. He started to fuck into Louis, each thrust deeper and harder than the last. What started off as chaste, innocent sex no longer remained between. It was rough and increasingly becoming harder, something taking over Harry as he made each push count.

Louis was groaning, hadn’t had sex that meant so much to him like this in ages. He was clutching onto Harry so tight, he was sure he was leaving fingerprinted bruises into Harry’s skin. But he didn’t complain nor did he ask, Harry simply increased the pace.

They were both gasping into each other’s mouth as Harry took control and initiative. Each thrust made Harry’s bed shake, the headboard slamming into the wall. They were intertwined in each other’s embrace, holding each other as Louis let out insistent, loud moans.

“So close, Harry.”

Harry shook his head, slapping the hand off Louis when he reached for his cock.

“Want you to come just like this.”

With that, Harry’s thrust angled just right to hit his prostate, making Louis gasp out and precum spill from the head of his cock. He had never been able to come without touch, Luke could never get him there but Harry kept the pressure of his prostate and with each passing moment, it felt more and more possible.

“Fuck…”

Harry was kissing his neck, teeth biting harshly into his neck as he whispered.

“Always imagined this with you. Always imagined how you’d feel, how you’d look when your orgasmed. You’re fucking beautiful, Jesus.” His voice was remarkably steady as he fucked into Louis harder, picking up the pace.

Louis clenched hard around him, pushed over the edge by the words. He came all over himself without a single touch, the insistent touch on his prostate doing him wonders.

Not a few minutes later, Harry let out a string of curses as he came right inside Louis.

Exhausted from their orgasms, neither of them spoke. Harry got up, grabbing a wet paper towel and wiping away remnants of his come, kissing him softly as he discarded of the paper towel. Before anyone could ask the question about what’s next, Harry slipped into bed next to him, drawing Louis close.

Within moments, Louis was asleep.

**

When Louis woke up the next morning, it took him a moment to realise where he was. He wasn’t used to waking up in Harry’s bed so naturally, he hadn’t expected to be there that morning. He rolled over, yawning behind his fist and when he reached over to who he thought was Luke, he realised with a start.

It was Harry.

His eyes widened as he scrambled backwards, nearly tumbling right out of bed. He was in Harry’s _bed_. His head was pounding a little, a reminder of all the alcohol he had consumed last night and everything came back to Louis ever so slowly.

Grinding on Harry, leaving with him, coming back with him here, letting Harry fuck him and enjoying it, remembering thinking he hadn’t had it like this for a while. Not even with Luke. He had came hard.

Fuck.

Louis, then, did get out of bed. He pushed the covers off him like they had burnt, stumbling out and cowering against the window.

That seemed to be enough to make Harry stir. He looked serene in his sleep, features smoothed out and upon the sudden noise, he shifted a little. Harry yawned, opening his eyes a little and lips twitched up into a smile almost instantly. However, when he noticed Louis’ frantic, panicked look, it faded.

“Oh.”

Louis shook his head, holding his head in his hands.

“What did we do?” He asked, even though he knew the answer. The memory still sat in the front of his mind.

Harry furrowed his brows a little, not moving from where he laid.

“You don’t remember?”

“No. I do. I just… I need it to be a dream, I need it to be a nightmare.”

Harry seemed… oddly offended by that. He drew himself together, eyes narrowing like he was trying to draw up walls to resist getting hurt.

“Sorry that it’s _such_ a bad thought for you. I, for one, _liked_ it.”

Louis barked a cynical laugh, shaking his head manically. Panic rose up in his throat and he couldn’t swallow it down, couldn’t feel past it. He had never pegged himself as a cheater. For the most part, he wasn’t entirely in love with Luke but that didn’t mean the man deserved to be betrayed, lied on. That wasn’t fair, not at all.

Luke had been so… accommodating, so understanding yesterday. He had been showering Louis with endless affection, open with his kisses and it had made Louis appreciate him that much more. Somehow, though, he had wounded up in Harry’s bed.

“That’s… I have a _boyfriend_!”

“An abusive excuse of a boyfriend?” Harry retorted, snorting. “Yeah, alright—”

“You don’t know anything!”

“I don’t?!” Harry seemed as hysterical as him now, sitting up on his knees on the bed. His eyes were swimming with emotions. “Do I not, Louis? When you stayed with me, you cried endlessly to me. I even got through to you about his abuse! You’re… you’re deluded, you’ve been brainwashed by him.”

“Shut up, shut the fuck up.”

“Can’t handle the truth?”

“Luke’s been good to me!” Louis shouted back, angered by Harry’s judgement. What did he know? He was never around, had only picked up on snippets. “You don’t know _anything_.”

“Maybe, I don’t. I only know from the little I saw and let me tell you, it was not a healthy relationship.”

“Oh my—”

“He doesn’t deserve a minute of your day.”

Louis shook his head, trying to crowd himself against the wall and put as much distance as humanly possible between the two of them.

“He’s still my boyfriend, despite it all. I’m still in a commitment.”

“Luke’s so shitty that he doesn’t even deserve your guilt.”

“You really… have no idea, huh?” Louis didn’t understand how they were miles apart right now, on different world’s altogether. Since when did Harry not condemn cheating? “Have you ever understood what a relationship means? Probably not since you run from every relationship that comes your way, hide away from them.”

Harry’s face had gone slack, colour draining from his face. Louis powered on, feeling in power for the first time.

“Yeah, that’s right. When you and I got a little serious, when something else started to linger between us, you ran.”

“I didn’t run—”

“Blah, blah. Blame it on the career, on your fame. Go on.” Louis wasn’t having any of it anymore. “You didn’t keep in touch. You ran from it, from me rather than facing up to it.”

“If you were so against cheating, why the fuck did you get into my bed?”

“I was _drunk_!” Louis shouted back, tears stinging his eyes. “Jesus Christ, I need to go.”

That seemed to frighten Harry. His eyes widened as he shuffled forward on his knees, palms up and out to physically stop him from leaving.

“Please, Lou. Please, don’t go.”

“I have to. I can’t stay here.”

“If… if you leave now, I’m afraid I’ll lose you forever.”

What a way of their friendship to die. To have sex for the first time and to love it, wholeheartedly and completely, with the one man it actually felt right with but not be allowed to have it. 

“Maybe.. It’s for the best,” Louis swallowed.”

“Louis…” Harry’s eyes were tearing up now too, unashamed and not even bothering to hold them back as a tear rolled down his cheeks. “Please, don’t do this to me.”

“Do this to you?” Louis had to be dreaming this. “I didn’t do anything. You were the one that fucked us up in the first place, the reason why.. Why we stopped talking, at all.”

Harry halted and he had no logical response against that, arms falling limp to his side. He knew he couldn’t argue because… well, Louis was right. Harry had been the one to run away to London and never contact him, only send measly postcards in the post every now and then and once in a blue moon, tickets to his shows. That was it. That had been the extent of their communication and it wasn’t Louis’ fault.

He had to relearn how to live. He had to extract every part of Harry from his daily routine, from his home. He had to learn to see the world without Harry Styles.

“I’m sorry.” Harry mumbled, eyes casted downwards and a certain sadness drooping behind them.

It was hard for Louis to watch and not reach out to comfort, not do something about it. It took every part of him to pull himself away entirely. He reached over to grab his belongings, his phone and his hoodie. Harry didn’t stop him, didn’t move or say another thing.

Louis didn’t spare him another glance. It’d hurt too much to do so.

He simply turned and walked right out of the bedroom door, quickly running down the stairs and out of the door before he could face Anne’s questioning gaze.

**

He slipped back into his own place fifteen minutes before Luke arrived for Louis’ birthday surprise. Just in time and yet, Louis couldn't shake off the guilt that burdened his shoulders. 

Johannah kept glancing at him, giving him unimpressed looks as she pranced around the kitchen to clear up. Louis swallowed the lump around his throats and ignored each of her looks, not wanting to dwell on last night too hard. 

That seemed to get harder and harder to do, though. Because Luke had a bag of presents when he walked through the door, and forced the whole family to gather so Louis could open in front of everybody. 

Lottie sat down next to him, Fizzy on the floor and the twins next to Johannah on the sofa adjacent. 

Blue wandered in not long after, whining for attention but eventually settling into Luke’s arms as he stroked the dog and encouraged Louis to go ahead and open his presents. 

The remorse he felt weighed heavy on his shoulders and for a minute, he wished he didn't have a party yesterday. His head was still pounding, feeling too big for his skull as he silently cursed himself for not taking a painkiller as soon as he had entered. 

“Go on, Louis!” Lottie said, seemingly bored of waiting. “This isn't entertaining, at all.”

Louis rolled his eyes, nudging her shoulder playfully before finally diverting his attention to the bags before him. Each presents, yes - plural, had been wrapped with expertise, corners folded and presented with a bow. 

He swallowed, staring up at his boyfriend. 

“Babe… this really wasn't necessary.” Even his words sounded grainy.

Luke, however, seemed oblivious. 

“It was very necessary.”

Each gift was as extravagant as the last. In total, there was four gifts. Two of them were gifts Louis had hinted out himself. A luxurious Stone Island hoodie, followed by a watch he had been eyeing up for a while. The other gifts were a touch sentimental, a scrapbook containing all their early memories complete with receipts from restaurants they had dined at and tickets for trains they had caught together. 

Louis’ eyes tested as he flicked through the pages, analysing each memory that had been printed and formed into a visual reminder. 

“Just.. I’m not really the romantic type and this was the best I could do.”

“The best you could do?” Louis laughed watery, pushing the book away and immediately pulling Luke into an embrace. “This was fucking amazing. All of it. Thank you so fucking much.”

“I love you.”

And though Louis’ heart hammered, he forced the words back to him. 

“I love you too.”

But it didn't feel right nor sincere. It didn't feel like it should be said, and not to Luke. But he didn't want to raise suspicions and Luke’s dazzling smile as he pulled away was enough for him. 

 

After having tea with Johannah and the sisters, Luke claimed there was another surprise for Louis which would require an overnight stay. It was a pleasant surprise, something he hadn’t been surprising but Louis agreed reluctantly. He packed his bags with Luke, trying to swallow down the waves of grief that overcame him every two seconds about the remnants of last night that remained.

“You okay?” Luke asked, raising a brow.

Louis swallowed, nodding tightly.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“You just seem off.”

Louis shook his head a little, zipping up his duffel bag and throwing it over his shoulders. He looked over to Luke, plastering on his best face.

“Let’s go.”

The drive was long and Louis felt nauseous, bile growing in the back of his throat as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. If Luke noticed, he definitely didn’t comment. He kept his eyes fixed on the road, humming to the tune of the song as he tapped his fingers against the wheel. They didn’t speak—they never used to have to, used to be able to sit in comfortable silence—but right now, it felt awkward. It felt impossible.

“Where are we going, then?” Louis reluctantly asked.

“Hmmm?” He looked away, glancing towards him for a second before stitching his brows together. “I told you, it’s a surprise.”

“It’s making me nervous. I don’t like surprises.”

“Oh babe, shh. You’ll be fine.”

After driving for nearly two hours, Luke took an junction off the motorway and started driving into a smaller, quaint village. Louis had never been here before, had never been much of anywhere besides London with Harry, so it was a pleasant surprise. There was waves of nerves overcoming him, trying to figure out Luke’s plans though he had a pretty good idea of what was coming next.

They pulled up outside a hotel… Feversham Arms Hotel.

Louis’ mouth dropped open as he analysed the grand building before him, it looked like a luxury retreat in middle of the countryside for getaways. It seemed cosy, small but yet antique, unique. He glanced around the building through the car, eyes wide as the car rolled to a stop outside the car park.

“What the fuck is this?” Louis demanded to know.

Luke, however, didn’t seem all that threatened. He simply laughed as he cut the engine off, turning to face him.

“It’s a five-star resort. You deserve it.”

No, he didn’t.

“No, I don’t.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Louis. You’ve worked hard all year long, you’re going to be a published author! You deserve it more than anything.”

If only Luke knew. If only Luke had any idea what had happened last night, how Louis had been branded as a cheater now because he was drunk, he had made a mistake and he had fallen into bed with Harry. He was ashamed of himself, felt his skin crawling with unease and he felt like his wrongdoings had been printed across his skin.

“Yeah, yeah.”

They walked hand in hand to the reception with their bags where Luke checked in, being granted the room he had booked for.

“This way, sir. I’ll take you to your villa and I can answer any questions you may have. I’m Sylvia, by the way.” The lady behind the desk said, grabbing the keys and leading Luke and Louis away from the reception.

Sylvia showed them around the small resort as they walked through the expansive place, showing them the restaurant located on the right and the bar that got a lot of attention every night and was a recommended place. She also pointed out the spa where they were able to get free massages, facials and other treatments but had to book in advance. When Sylvia pulled up outside their villa, she smiled.

“I’ll leave you guys here now. You can dial ‘1’ on the phone provided to reach me, directly, at the reception desk or just ask for Sylvia. Other details are given on the placard inside. Please, enjoy your stay at Feversham.”

Luke thanked her, bidding her farewell before turning to Louis.

“Are you excited?” He sounded giddy as he opened the door, eyes wide with excitement himself.

“Yeah. M’excited.”

He wasn’t. He was crippled with the guilt that was all-consuming, overwhelming and no matter where he tried to divert his thoughts, it always landed back on Harry. Was Harry gone now? Did he leave and go back home?

Louis wouldn’t be surprised.

It didn’t help, either that the rooms were… stunningly magnificent.

They were tastefully designed, decorated beautifully. It was massive and made to be cosy, the furniture not too jarring or fancy. There was an balcony view, overlooking the expansive countryside of Yorkshire with a hot tub outside. In the living room, there was a burning log stove, a massive TV which was connected to a kitchen. The hotel had provided many free items for food.

Louis couldn’t look any further. He turned to Luke, shaking his head.

“I can’t do this.”

The place was luxurious, expensive and knowing Luke had thought of him buying this, it made his throat tighten up dangerously. He was tearful, on the verge of a panic attack. 

Luke didn’t seem too fazed. He cut the distance to Louis, putting an arm around him and trying to embrace him but Louis couldn’t stand for it. He refused to. How could he hug his boyfriend after he had cheated on him? How could he enjoy this resort holiday getaway for his birthday when he had broke their commitment, tainted their relationship? Louis put his hands flat on Luke’s chest, trying to push him off.

“What the fuck is your problem, Louis?” Luke roared once he had been successfully pushed back, eyes filling with anguish. “I try to do something _nice_ for you for once and this is how you treat me?”

“I cheated on you!” Louis said, words a rush and escaping him all of a sudden.

Not how he had been planning to break the news, not at all.

The silence that followed the confession was more painful than the entire prospect. Louis could see the exact moments the gears shifted in Luke’s mind, expression changing from excited, to anger to… nothing. Void of any emotions, a straight poker face as he burned his gaze into Louis’.

“Say something…” Louis whimpered pathetically, stepping forward as he tried to reach out for Luke. “It was a mistake, it was last night and I swear, I was drunk and I’d do anything to take it back. I’m so, _so_ sorry—”

Luke snatched his arm back, taking a step back. He breathed heavily through his nose, trying to compose himself.

“Who?”

“You don’t want—”

“ _Who_?”

Louis’ lips curled downwards, hot tears stinging his cheeks. “Harry.”

“I fucking knew it!”

Luke looked overwhelmed and he reached over, punching the closest thing next to him. It was a tray of their free, complimentary hot drinks. The tray fell the ground, the teapot falling to the ground and shattering into pieces. Louis flinched but he didn’t make a move, still desperately trying to reach out for Luke.

“It was _once_ —”

“I knew there was something going on with Harry, with how you went to London with him.”

Louis had also kissed him in London… but that didn’t need to be addressed, that didn’t need to brought up.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Luke. I can’t live with myself knowing what—”

He kept getting cut off, not able to get a single word in. Luke raged on, walking around the hotel room and thrashing everything he could touch. He knew it’d leave a long, long bill of repairs for them and he didn’t want to burden either of them with the hefty price that would follow.

Though he was mostly fearful right now, Louis stepped near him and tried to touch him again.

“Babe, _please_ stop—”

But he couldn’t even finish his thought. Luke turned around, eyes dark and unrecognizable as he delivered a blow right on Louis’ nose. He hadn’t been prepared for it, caught completely off guard as the punch practically broke his nose, a painful snap could be heard as he stumbled backwards with a loud cry. He covered his nose just in time before the spray of blood stained the floors, gasping painfully.

Something snapped inside of Luke because he softened… just slightly.

“A-are you okay?”

A sarcastic remark was heavy on his tongue, ready to defend himself but he knew he didn’t deserve it. He fell to the ground, shrinking up against the back of the sofa. He drew his knees up to his chest, putting himself into a vulnerable position.

“Please believe me, Luke. It was a mistake.”

Luke didn’t seem all that bothered about the cheating anymore, though. He crouched before Louis and though the traces of anger were still evident, there was an underlying softness in his eyes. He didn’t dare reach out to touch Louis but he stared intensely, trying to inspect the broken nose.

“C’mon. We need to go to a fucking hospital.”

“Luke—”

“Hospital.”

Thankfully, the hospital was nearby, barely short of a ten minute drive. The ten minutes, though, Louis spent in agony as his nose throbbed but he couldn’t focus on that pain when he was desperate to salvage the relationship he had with Luke. Whenever he tried to talk about it, though—he was shot down, made to be silent.

The nurse that saw him gave him a look as she inspected the nose, wincing at the swollen sight.

“Well, home care is usually the best for broken noses,” she told him as she grabbed him an icepack, handing it over. “You can stay here for a while if the pain feels too much for you to move. Just hold this ice pack over your nose for 10-15 minutes and then repeat after another 10-15 minute cycles. I can offer you some painkillers, perhaps some ibuprofen?”

Louis nodded. “Yes, please,” as he took the ice pack and put it over his nose. It didn’t relieve any pain but the startling cold was a nice contrast to his burning nose.

“I’ll go get that for you.” The nurse nodded to both of them before turning on her heel, walking away.

Louis knew in the back of his mind, he had been punched… by his boyfriend. It was violence. It was _abuse_. But he couldn’t bring himself to care when he had been the one to ruin their relationship, the one to cheat on him with Harry and permanently fuck everything up with him and Luke.

“Luke…” he tried once they were alone, turning to him.

“I’m leaving,” Luke had decided, a determined, fixed look painted over his lips.

He crumbled, fresh tears gathering in his eyes. “No, please.”

“We’re bad for each other. I fucking _punched_ you, do you realise the gravity of that? You cheated on me, I hurt you enough to wind up in hospital. We can’t… we’re bad, we’re toxic. I can’t be with you, not after you slept with another man.”

“We can fix this.”

“We can’t. I can’t be with you knowing you were in another man’s bed.”

“Please.”

“Go call your boyfriend, Louis.”

“He’s not my fucking boyfriend!”

“Goodbye.” And with that, Luke turned on his heel and left Louis alone.

He had been stranded in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of Yorkshire countryside which was approximately three hours away from home. He had a broken nose and he had just been dumped because of his own reckless mistakes.

Once Luke was out of sight, he allowed himself to sob.

**

Niall came to pick him up approximately two hours and half later, wild and frantic eyes searching the hospital ER room before he found Louis. He had been vague on the phone about what had happened, only claimed he needed a ride. 

“What the hell happened? Are you okay?” Niall was babbling as he rushed forward, inspecting his face and gasping. “What - what did he do to you? I'll fucking kill you!”

By this point, the pain was mostly bearable. The ibuprofen had worked wonders, dulling the intense sharp pangs that were sent through his face but didn't do anything to stop the throbbing. 

He felt awful, too. Physically and emotionally. He knew his face was a sight for sore eyes right now, swollen and blood dried up, expanded three times his normal nose size. 

“Nothing,” he mumbled. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“I - of course, i’d always come,” Niall shook his head as he offered a hand. 

Louis was grateful. He had spent the better half of the last hour crying pathetically to himself, trying to quieten the sobs but failing miserably. He had curled up on the bed they had provided for him, sticking a fist into his hand to reduce the sounds, to refrain from people staring sympathetically at him but it didn't seem to help all that much. 

He was drained, tired and his legs felt like jelly. 

He took the hand, allowing Niall to guide him up as he stood and used Niall to lean onto him. 

“Who did this to you?”

“Don't say it. You already know.”

Niall scowled as he guided Louis out of the hospital, a new pack of painkillers in his hand. They got into the car and once he was seated, Louis felt more tears stinging his eyes. 

“Hey, c’mon. Don't cry.”

Oddly the comfort made him cry more, a sob escaping him as he started to cry loudly. Niall was over in a flash, trying to pull him into a hug over the console and rubbed his back comfortingly. 

“What happened, Louis? Tell me… what happened?”

“I cheated on Luke,” he tried to speak through his gasps, rocking back and forth. It didn't get any less painful to say. “Then he took me to a five-star resort and I felt guilty, I told him. He punched me and dumped me. The rest is history.”

“How fucking _dare_ he!”

“Did you miss the part where I told you I cheated?”

“No, I didn't and we’ll talk about that but it doesn't mean you deserved to get punched. To get hurt. He fucking broke your nose, Louis!”

“I'm tired, just take me home.”

Niall didn't argue with that and he didn't say much of anything else as he started up his car, peeling out of the hospital car park. It felt surreal to be going back to Holmes Chapel when the promise of a five-star resort was hanging over his head. 

Now, he was returning to the village because of his own betrayal. 

An hour into the journey, Niall started to ask questions again. 

“So, you cheated?”

Louis heaved a sigh. He knew he couldn’t avoid the topic or act like it didn’t matter. It did and it was his fault, he had acted upon his lust and he had hurt Luke… who was now his ex boyfriend, or something. Was it really over? It didn’t feel over.

“Yeah.”

“With who?”

“Harry.”

“Ah. You oughta explain that whole story to me.”

“I guess, yeah.”

The rest of the drive consisted of Louis recalling every single memory that he and Harry had shared together starting from when they grew up together all the way till now, till last night. He didn’t skirt around any details, being outright and honest about what Harry had done but also what he had done as well.

Niall seemed to drink in all the details, humming at all the appropriate times. By the end, he looked a little taken aback.

“I was not expecting that,” he admitted honestly as he took the junction into Holmes Chapel village, swallowing. “So.. you’re like, you’re in love with him?”

“Yeah. I am.”

“Since?”

“Since… I don’t know, I can’t even recall anymore.” Louis sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Luke too. I feel awful for cheating, for doing that to him but I also.. Harry’s the _one_ for me.”

“Have you ever told him that?”

He snorted. “Yeah, right. No, ‘course not.”

“Why not?”

“Because.. He’s Harry Styles, famous pop star with girlfriends and fucking his way through life with his abundance of money. I’m me.”

“You’re Louis Tomlinson and the greatest mate I’ve ever had so watch that mouth.”

Louis flushed a little, neck reddening. He didn’t deserve Niall’s kindness or endless devoted loyalty. He had fucked up, had hurt the one man he had never wanted and even if Luke had hurt him, literally broken his nose—it didn’t change what had happened. 

“Thanks.”

“Seriously. From what you tell me, Harry sees the world in you. I don’t understand why he cut you off as I’m sure you don’t either but… fuck putting yourself down like that. You’re a good, honest man and you messed up.”

“Majorly.”

“Either way, everyone makes mistake.”

It didn’t help ease Louis’ heartbreak. He wasn’t sure what he was more broken about—leaving Harry today morning, wondering where the fuck Harry was or the fact that he had just lost his long-term boyfriend. Either way, he was broken and hurt.

“Do you want to come back to mine? Kip at my sofa?”

That was… considerate. If he went home now, Johannah and the sisters would have endless questions and he wouldn’t know how to answer them let alone explain his broken nose. He needed time.

“Sure, please.”

Niall only smiled, nodding as he drove them back to his flat.

**

Two days later, Louis had work. He hadn’t gone back to his home, too afraid to face his mother. He knew he couldn’t hide from her forever and some point, he was going to have to be honest with her. But the longer he could avoid it, he was going to take it.

McDonald’s was slow this particular afternoon, surprisingly. He had started his shift at 6am and it wasn’t long until he was getting off, only given a measly six hours today which he could do with his eyes closed. The morning rush hour hadn’t bothered him. Instead, it had provided him with the perfect distraction as he had taken orders, prepared burgers, catered to people through the drive through.

The work radio was playing his tune as he swayed his hips to Daft Punk, ignoring his co worker’s stares at his nose. It was going to get uglier and more swollen before it’d start to heal and he could deal with the looks.

Louis had been trying to reach through to Luke—with no luck. Eventually, he stopped trying. When Luke was ready, he’d reach out to him and they could talk. Even if they didn’t get back together, they’d have to at least talk, get some closure. 

“Louis!” His manager called out for him. “Customer at the tills, please.”

“On it!”

Louis fixed his McDonald’s cap, concealing his hair carefully before he walked around from the back of the kitchen. He was prepared to repeat his montone greeting, take their order but he halted when he realised who was waiting by the counter.

Harry.

“Oh.” Louis breathed out, rubbing his sweaty palms down his jeans.

Harry was trying to conceal himself behind his Ray Ban’s but it was clear it was him, dressed in his pretentious, expensive clothes and arms crossed. He took one look at Louis though and his guarded expression fell. He pushed his sunglasses up to his hair, mouth opening and closing like a fish flapping out of water.

“What… the fuck.”

Oh, the nose.

Louis sighed as he walked up to the counter, typing his details into the till.

“May I take your order?”

Harry reached forward for Louis’ forearm, tightening his hold over him and tugging forward ever so gently. He analysed Louis’ nose, eyes filtering over the swollen red raised lumps, the purple bruising. They remained like that for a long, long moment before Louis exhaled, withdrawing himself.

Where Harry had touched him was burning him.

“Why did he do this to you?” Harry demanded to know, breathing through his nose and looking incredibly close to snapping.

“What makes you sure it’s him?” He scoffed.

“Don’t.”

Louis sighed as he threw his head back, exhaling. His back hurt because of the the crick in his neck, extending downwards over his entire body.

“I told him, okay? About what we did. He lost his temper, one thing lead to another.”

“What else did he do?”

“Nothing. Just the nose.”

Harry’s nostrils were flared and he nodded tightly, lips pressed together in a tight light. Before Louis realised what was happening, he had turned on his heel and a mutter of ‘I’m gonna kill him’ under his breath. Louis’ eyes widened. Harry didn’t even know where Luke lived but the panic still blossomed inside of him as he quickly jogged over to him, through the counter and completely abandoning the fact that he was on shift.

He reached forward to halt Harry, pulling the boy back to him.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Harry looked tormented, licking his lips as his eyes remained fixed on the healing nose.

“How am I supposed to be okay with this, Louis? With him hurting you?”

“I… I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s any of your business.”

“Is it not?” He tilted his head to the side. “What we did… what did it mean to you? Did it mean anything to you, that night?”

Louis wanted to take a step back and shut it down. He wanted to deny everything, he wanted to claim it was a mistake and that he belonged with Luke. But as he studied Harry’s features, how they were pulled together, how pained he looked… he couldn’t deny it any longer. Louis loved Harry, always had and he had never been in denial about it.

It just had become… quieter, with time. Harry was gone and Louis had to focus on moving on, finding somebody else. It was only normal that his passion for Harry had calmed down. But with Harry around him again, coming up to his workplace, taking him London—it was like Louis had never forgotten about it. 

Louis sucked his bottom lip, gathering every last bit of his courage.

“You’ve always known how I’ve felt about you, Harry.”

Harry shut his eyes, squeezing them as he exhaled. Tension seemed to evaporate from his body, going lax under Louis’ hold.

“Do I?”

“Don’t make me say it. Don’t.”

“I won’t,” Harry reassured, opening his burning green eyes again. He took both of Louis’ hands into his, squeezing. “I’m… I’m going back to tour today.”

Louis’ insides deflated. He was sure his facial expression dropped and he couldn’t hide it, even if he wanted to. A part of him wanted to step back and pretend he hadn’t just hinted to the fact that he had always been in love with Harry.

The other boy picked up on it quickly.

“No, no. It’s… it’s going to be different now, okay?”

Louis resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “How so?”

“I.. I want you around, okay? I don’t want to lose contact with you again, please.”

“If you let that happen.”

“Just don’t push me away.”

Louis sighed. “I have things to focus on, Harry. Luke—”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to go back to him?” He sounded astonished, shaking his head slowly. “He raised his hands on you, Louis. He should be glad I’m not beating the fucking shit out of him, really.”

“It’s my fault.”

“No one asks to be hurt, Louis. Please don’t kid yourself.”

Louis didn’t want to talk about this, didn’t want to argue about it. He sighed.

“When does your flight leave?”

“Tonight…”

“Harry.” Louis mumbled, chest tightening at the thought of losing him once again to the distance, to millions of fans.

Harry shook his head gently. He let go of one of the hands he was holding and instead, he cupped Louis’ cheeks. He stroked his thumb over his cheekbones, wandering until his thumb was grazing over Louis’ bottom lip.

“It’s going to be different. I want you to come drop me to the airport. I want you every step of the way.”

“Are you sure—”

“I made a fucking mistake four years ago, okay?” Harry insisted, powering on through his speech. “I was naive and stupid. I thought I had it, I thought… so many wrong, wrong things. I thought you wouldn’t want me around anymore. I thought you... “ he paused. “I was wrong. All of it. I’ll explain and explain myself over and over, if you need it but I’m not leaving you again. If you’ll accept that?”

Louis bit his lip, considering.

“O-okay.”

“So, I go back to tour today. In the states. But I want you to come visit me. I want us to keep our friendship, I never want to lose that.”

 _Friendship_. Right.

“Sure.”

“You’ll drop me today?”

Louis found himself nodding before he could even consider it. “Of course.”

Harry beamed. “Perfect.”

He dropped his hand from where he had been touching Louis, clearing his throat. It was… a step, if anything. It had to be a friendship before they could ever discuss anything more.

“I’ll let you get back to work. When do you get off?”

“An hour.”

“I’ll come pick you up.”

Louis nodded, taking another step back towards the counters where he was supposed to be serving customers.

“I’ll see you then.”

**

As promised, Harry was waiting outside for him in an hours time in his Range Rover. Louis slipped into the car, a Big Mac meal in his hand that he had salvaged for Harry. He handed it over gingerly, feeling out of space and unsure what the dynamic was between them anymore.

Harry, sunglasses over his face as it always was when he was out in public, still beamed, though.

“I’m trying to be healthy.”

Louis snorted, putting the meal in the back.

“You can be unhealthy for once.”

“Not sure it works like that,” Harry seemed happy, his tone light and airy as he started up the car and pulled out of the car park. “How’re you feeling now?”

“My health didn’t magically decline in the past hour, Harry. M’fine.”

He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he drove, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead of him. Harry must’ve remembered the ins and outs of Holmes Chapel because he barely hesitated, taking each turn with confidence like he had never left the city before. It was almost unnerving.

“I know it must’ve been hard with Luke. You were with him for a while.”

“Does it matter?”

“Well, does it matter to _you_?”

Louis took a moment to ponder on the question. “Maybe.”

“If it matters to you, it matters to me.”

Harry made it sound so simple, like that was it to the matter. But it more complex than just that. Louis did love Luke. Overtime, he had managed to love the man in the fucked up way he knew how to. Their relationship had always been unconventional and admittedly, toxic sometimes. But Luke didn’t deserve to get betrayed and the guilt was something Louis couldn’t erase but as he looked at Harry now…

He didn’t entirely regret sleeping with Harry, either.

It was a memory he couldn’t erase from his mind, no matter how he tried. He still replayed the sounds Harry had made, desperate and needy for him like he had been waiting forever and a lifetime. Louis knew he sure as hell had.

“I just feel… shitty. I’ve always condemned cheaters, what does that make me then?”

Harry seemed to seriously consider the question for a minute.

“Making a mistake makes you a human.”

“It’s not just a mistake.”

“Bottom line, it’s a mistake.”

Louis wanted to argue, wanted to dispute the words but he didn’t have the energy to do so. In the end, it’d only expose his pathetic, undying feelings for Harry and he had enough of doing that for one day. It was clear neither of them were ready to talk about it and he didn’t want to start something they couldn’t end.

“Is it okay if we stop at yours first?” Harry asked. “I just, we’re going to need your car to get to the airport.”

“Sure, yeah. Is this not yours?”

He shook his head slowly. “Nah, it’s my rental car.”

“Of course.”

But Louis wished he hadn’t agreed when they rolled to a stop outside his house. He hadn’t been home since Niall had drove him back, had been sleeping on his sofa and last night, literally cuddled up with Niall in his bed and cried on his shoulder. Now that he was home, he saw Luke sitting outside on the steps to his house.

Louis froze, throat bopping painfully at the sight of Luke. He looked completely wretched, red, blotched eyes and looking in desperate need of sleep. It also seemed like he hadn’t showered since they had last seen each other, in the hospital room.

“Motherfuck—”

Louis reached out to hold Harry’s hand over the gear box.

“No. Absolutely not. You’re not doing anything, do you hear me?”

Harry’s eyes were wild. “How the fuck do you expect me to face Luke after what he had done and _not_ react?”

“Just like you will now.”

He didn’t seemed like he was going to listen but Louis pleaded with his eyes, desperate. Luke didn’t deserve to get attacked by Harry after it was Louis’ fault about what had happened. A beat passed, their hands still touching and it felt like electricity. Finally, Harry pulled his hand back.

“I’ll wait in the car, then. Get him to leave then I’ll come, wanna say bye to Jo.”

He was going to stay inside to prevent his anger from blowing over. Louis nodded, muttering out a ‘thanks’ as he left the car, already itching for the cigarettes resting in his back pocket.

Luke seemed livid when Louis approached him and a part of him wanted to retreat back as soon as he had arrived, the throb of his nose a dull reminder that he was actually _afraid_ of Luke, genuinely, so.

“Are you fucking serious?” Luke screamed, quite literally across the lawn. “You cheated on me with _that_ man and you’re _with_ here?”

Louis’ eyes scanned across over Luke, towards the house. He knew his mother would be home and so would Lottie, having an early finish from college today. He also knew Daisy and Phoebe had teacher’s training day and therefore, they were probably having a lay-in. He didn’t appreciate Luke swearing outside his house with his siblings still inside.

“Do you fucking mind?” Louis walked right up to him, defiant. “My sisters are inside.”

“Is that all that matters to you? You cheated on me!”

“And you fucking broke my nose!”

Luke snorted. “So?”

That actually made Louis reel, taking a step back in horror as he shook his head slowly. He had expected some sort of remorse about the punch, some sort of apology—even if he didn’t really deserve it after what he had done. But Luke was staring back at him with an impassive expression, not a single emotion displayed over his features. He didn’t care.

“You’re right, Luke. We _are_ bad for each other.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “Get in the car. We’re going home.”

He took a step back resolutely, shaking his head. “We’re over, Luke. You said so yourself. You’re the one who broke it off with me, remember? This… we can’t do this again. Stop it, go home.”

Luke didn’t seem to want to tolerate that. He reached forward, a tight vice grip over Louis’ forearm as he tugged uncomfortably towards him. He was a bigger man compared to Louis so he fell into his pull easily, stumbling over his footing and nearly falling right to the ground. Luke, however, didn’t seem to care as he started to forcibly pull him towards the car.

Louis clawed at his arm in horror as to what was happening. He was being quite literally _dragged_ away.

“Stop, Luke! Fucking stop it!”

Within a flash, before Louis could even address what was happening—Harry was by his side. His strong hand pried Luke off him, shoving the other man hard so he stumbled back. Louis whimpered at the sudden release, hand cradling over the fingerprint bruises already forming over his skin.

Harry looked like an animal in heat, right now. He looked ready to attack and he did so, striking Luke on the face once. Louis let out a gasp, moving forward instantly but Harry pushed him back and out of the way.

Luke doubled over, a hand flying to his face where he had been attacked.

“How _dare_ you—”

Harry didn’t seem to have the patience for him, though. He advanced forward once again and roughly grabbed ahold of Luke’s collar, twisting the material in his hand. He pushed Luke back against the car, lifting him up only to slam him back down again.

“ _Harry._ ” Louis tried to argue but he had no chance.

Luke looked… small under Harry’s gaze, shrinking up. 

“You keep the fuck away from Louis. Keep your hands _off my_ boy.” He was roaring, voice booming and by this point, there was an entire show for the neighbourhood. Harry didn’t seem to care, though and to really drill his point into Luke, he slammed his body against the car roughly one more time. “If I see you touching him, anywhere near him—I’ll fucking end you. Mark my words.”

“Let. Me. Go.”

Harry dropped Luke’s collar like it burnt his skin, eyes narrowed like slits. He looked dangerous. Even Louis was afraid of him, not daring to look at Luke’s eye that was already swelling up due to the punch.

“Get the fuck out of here.”

Luke’s jaw was clenched as he looked between Louis and Harry, like he was prepared to say something but he decided against it. Instead, he simply turned on his heel and walked away. He got into his car and barely spared them a glance as he drove away.

They stood in silence for a few moments as they watched Luke disappear into sight. Before Louis or Harry could get a word out, Johannah came rushing out. She looked grief stricken, looking between both boys and then zeroing into Louis’ broken nose.

“What the _fuck_ happened?”

Johannah wasn’t a swearing woman, always kept her curses to a minimal. But right now, it exploded right out of her. She looked pasty, colourless as her agitated yet concerned eyes drifted from both of them.

When neither of them spoke, too caught up in the moment—Johannah stepped forward, towards Louis. She, tentatively, reached out to touch his face as her fingers grazed over his broken nose. It was still tender to touch so he winced but she didn’t withdraw her fingers, ever so slightly running her fingers through the bumps.

“I knew he was a fucked up man.”

Louis closed his eyes, exhaling. “Maybe.”

“He was,” Harry said from where he stood, taking a step forward. “He’s gone, now. He’s gone.”

Johannah looked like she wanted to argue some more, wanted to discuss everything but she resisted saying anything more. She swallowed, eyes finally lifting off her son to gaze over to Harry. She offered a weak, wobbly smile.

“Will you come inside, dear?”

“Um.. I came to say bye, actually. I’m going to the airport.. That’s if Louis will still drop me?”

He realised he was being directly addressed to a moment later, nodding slowly.

“Yeah.. yeah, course.” He was still reeling from what had just happened, speaking in small sentences. “If you want me to, yeah.”

“I do.”

Johannah’s smile was pleasant. She bid her farewells to Harry, embracing him tightly and rubbing his back softly. She seemed to muttering words into Harry’s ear that Louis couldn’t catch ear of but when he pulled away, his eyes were delicate and his expression was mushy, like he had just caught wind of the best news ever.

“I will,” he reassured Johannah about whatever had been whispered to him.

Louis furrowed his brows but decided against questioning it, letting his mother and Harry have the private moment together.

He got the car keys for his Toyota, getting inside as Johannah helped ease the luggage from one car to another with Harry. They hugged again before Harry got inside, sitting comfortably in the passenger seat, buckling up.

Louis started up the car, giving him a small, wry smile.

“Thank you for what just happened.”

Harry shrugged as he turned on the radio. “Thank me later. Promise me you’ll come visit when I send the tickets.”

He swallowed, nodding. “I promise, yeah.”

“Take me away then, Louis.”


End file.
